


We're So Starving

by pukefiend



Category: Panic! at the Disco, Young Veins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Awkward Romance, Begging, Blood, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demonic Possession, Demons, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Exorcisms, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, M/M, Memes, Men Crying, Panic Attacks, Pining, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Texting, Trauma, Violence, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 27,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6878185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pukefiend/pseuds/pukefiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a succubus is the catalyst for a series of somewhat horrifying events shared by a pair of friends (and also Spencer).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistakes Were Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which little witchy Spencer tries to summon a succubus with Brendon, but it just doesn't work. I promise the meme in this chapter was relevant when I originally wrote this.

“This chalk is for drawing sigils, and these are the crystals I’m using,” Spencer said, handing Brendon a box of colorful sidewalk chalk and an old cookie tin. Brendon scrunched his nose up and watched as Spencer grabbed an armful of white candles off the desk. He was trying to force himself to stay focused despite the excitement buzzing inside him. 

“Brendon,” Spencer said, “can you grab the incense holders and incense? Just put them on top of the candles.”

Brendon grabbed the little ceramic incense holders and the Ziploc bag that contained the sticks of incense and laid them cautiously on the pile of candles. 

“Okay thanks. Let’s go,” Spencer said, nodding his head towards the door. 

“Alright,” Brendon said, following Spencer as he made his way down the hall. Spencer made his way into a strange room with no furniture, no lights, and one window out to the city below.

“I can’t believe you have a whole room dedicated to this shit,” Brendon said almost skeptically, setting the tin and chalk on the floor. Spencer dropped the candles down with a loud thud.

“Well, I do. So there,” Spencer said, furrowing his brow. “Now help me out.”

“What do I need to do?”

Spencer pushed the candles towards Brendon on the floor. 

“Make a circle on the floor,” Spencer said. “As big as you can manage.”

“Right,” Brendon replied eagerly, sitting down onto the hardwood. He grabbed a few of the white candles, pulling them with him as he scooted across the floor.

Spencer rifled through the little cardboard box of sidewalk chalk, pulling out a half used white piece of chalk. 

“So. Walk me through what you’re gonna do,” Brendon said, looking down at the floor.

“I told you, I’m drawing sigils,” Spencer replied, taking a seat on the ground next to Brendon. He sounded flippant but not rude, plenty used to Brendon’s unending curiosity.

“Okay,” Brendon said, adjusting the semicircle of pearly candles he had set up. Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket, fumbling to open the image of the sigil he intended to draw.

“Is that it?” Brendon asked. Spencer looked up to see him staring at his phone. Brendon smiled sheepishly when Spencer met his eyes.

“Yeah, it is,” Spencer said, drawing a long line on the floor. 

“What’s it mean?” Brendon asked, shifting around and lining up more of the candles. 

“It’s an invocation. I had to make it from the Latin,” Spencer replied. 

“You know Latin?” Brendon perked up. 

“Only the basics,” Spencer said, drawing the lines branching out of his sigil.

“I’m still impressed,” Bren replied, smiling. He curved the remaining candles into a circle as best as he could. Spencer grinned, finishing his sigil.

“Circle looks good, Bren,” Spencer said. 

“Thanks! What’s next?”

“The crystals, and the incense,” Spencer replied. “The crystals go on the corners of the sigil,” he added. “Do you want to do that?”

“Sure. They’re in the tin?”

“Mhm.”

Brendon opened the little cookie tin, seeing an array of purple gemstones.

“What are these ones?” Brendon asked, pulling one out and holding it up to the light filtering through the window. The sunlight made the dark parts of the crystal seem to glow a vibrant violet. 

“Amethyst,” Spencer replied.

“Cool,” Brendon said, getting right to work placing the crystal points at the intersections of the chalk lines. Spencer grabbed the little ceramic incense holders, setting them outside the ring of candles. 

“Do you want me to light the candles?” Brendon asked, watching as Spencer shoved incense into the holders. 

“Sure. You have a lighter?” 

“Yeah,” Brendon replied, pulling a lighter out of his pocket. It was the only lighter Brendon owned that was his. The other two he had were stolen from Ryan Ross, mostly by accident. 

“Go for it,” Spencer said. He pulled out his own lighter, silver and stupidly ornate, lighting up the closest stick of incense. He watched the flame burn for a second before he blew it out, staring at the smoke curling up into the air, smelling dusty and sweet.

He could hear Brendon’s lighter flicking as he lit the candles. 

“How long do you think this’ll take?”

“I dunno.”

“That smells good.”

“It’s fig.”

“Fig? That’s unusual. It’s nice though.” Brendon was silent for a moment. “You’re sure this’ll work?”

“No. You can’t be sure.”

“Oh. Well, that’s reassuring.”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to do it. I want to see a real succubus.”

“Well, that’s what we’re hoping for.”

“Will she stick around for a while?”

“It won’t necessarily be a she,” Spencer corrected.

“Okay okay I mean, how long is the succubus going to stick around?”

“As long as we tell it to, hopefully.”

“What do you mean hopefully?” Brendon asked incredulously.

“The succubus does have free will,” he replied. “It could just leave if it figures out how.”

“Oh shit, you do know how to send it back, right?”

“Don’t worry Bren. There’s a second ritual. It’s not too difficult.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I’m not stupid enough to summon something I can’t send back,” he replied with a wave of his hand.

Brendon nodded. “Glad to hear that,” he chuckled. 

“Do you think,” Brendon continued with a giggle, “she’ll give us the succ?”

Spencer turned to Brendon and laughed.

“Oh yeah definitely. The succ.”

“Oh fuck we are stupid. But in all seriousness: won’t a succubus be all sexual?”

“I mean, that’s like their nourishment. I suppose if the succubus we get is _hungry_ they might try to...hit on us. But otherwise, since we summoned them, they can’t really do much due to the threat of never getting back. It’s a good control tactic.”

“I didn’t think of that.”

“I did. But please Brendon, tell me you aren’t gonna try to fuck the succubus while I’m still standing around watching. I don’t need to see that...”

Brendon cackled with laughter.

“I won’t, I won’t man. Geez, do you really think I would try to fuck it?”

“I want to say no but there is a tiny part of me that disagrees.”

“Whatever,” Brendon said.

“Alright. Well, we finally got all the candles lit,” Spencer grumbled. “My fingers hurt.” He sat back on his heels to see the ring of candles glowing brilliantly. 

“So pretty!” Brendon cooed.

“Alright dude. I have to do the invocation now,” Spencer replied. “You want to chill in the corner?”

“Yup,” Bren said, scooting across the floor into the corner. 

Spencer’s voice was barely a whisper as he read out the invocation. Brendon couldn’t make out what he was saying, and he found it a little eerie the way the candlelights flickered, casting Spence’s shadow onto the walls. The air felt stiff and tense, the incense smoke flowing straight up in unwavering columns.

A sudden blue light came from Brendon’s pocket. The pinging noise immediately alerted him to what had happened.

“Brendon!” he heard Spencer pipe up mid-ritual. The perfect pillars of smoke were no more.

Brendon pulled an apologetic face, waving at Spencer. Spence shook his head, returning to his incantation. Brendon left his cellphone in his pocket, deciding to respond later. The less he interrupted, the better, he figured. 

He watched the incense smoke float around the ceiling. Spencer had a deep look of concentration on his face. The horizon was visible through the window, a line separating the setting sun from the flat tops of the buildings. Brendon cracked a smile.

Silence lapsed almost unnoticed as Spencer finished his incantation. Bren sat quietly, watching Spencer look up at the travelling smoke. 

Spencer let out a soft huff. 

“That was anticlimactic,” Brendon heard Spencer mutter. 

“Hm?” Brendon asked. 

“Well, nothing’s happening! I must have done something wrong! No one’s been summoned!” Spencer sounded pretty frustrated.

“Oh. Well, that’s too bad,” Bren replied sympathetically. Spencer grimaced. 

“Yeah. Man, all that set up for nothing,” Spencer muttered. 

“I’ll help you clean up,” Brendon offered.

“Hey, thanks.”

Brendon walked over to the candles, blowing out the ones he could reach. He watched as Spencer gathered the incense holders and amethyst shards. He wiped the chalk sigil off the floor with his hand, making a small puff of white dust. 

Once all the materials were gathered up, Spencer just shoved them into the corner. He sighed again, rubbing his temples. 

Brendon checked the message that had interrupted the ritual.

Message from Ryro at 5:12 p.m.  
hey come over

“Ryan wants me to hang out,” Brendon informed Spencer in quiet voice.

“Go ahead man. I’m gonna try to figure out what went wrong here.” 

“Good luck. See you later, Spence.”

“Later.”


	2. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brendon returns to Spencer with startling symptoms, and Spencer's diagnosis shocks him.

Spencer had three books and one notebook on his lap when he heard his phone buzz, and he squirmed to take it out to get a glance at the screen.

Message from Bren at 2:03 p.m.  
im coming over spencer

Spencer bit his lip. Of course Brendon didn’t bother asking, he just invited himself over. Spencer sent a quick response.

Message to Bren at 2:04 p.m.  
Okay. I’m home, so that’ll be fine.

He set his phone on the table next to his couch, and grabbed his notebook again. Taped onto the cover was a scrap of paper with the word ‘grimoire’ written in clumsy calligraphy. Spencer had done it himself. He only knew a bit about calligraphy, but he had practiced for a good week to get a good label for his grimoire. He was foolishly proud of it. 

Spencer’s phone buzzed again, and he peered over at it.

Message from Bren at 2:05 p.m.  
its an emergncy

Spencer frowned, grabbing his phone again. He knew when to take Brendon seriously.

Message to Bren at 2:05 p.m.  
You okay?

He stared at the screen, anxious for Brendon’s text in return. Thankfully, not a minute passed before the phone buzzed again.

Message from Bren at 2:05 p.m.  
dont know, ill tell you wats going on when i get there

Spencer scrunched up his nose, settling back into the sofa. Hopefully, he figured, Brendon would get there soon, and they could talk about whatever was bothering him so much. He picked the grimoire back up to flip to his notes about the failed spell.

He’d been looking at other people’s records of the spell, trying to figure out if he had missed any steps or mixed up ingredients or translated his incantation wrong. So far, no one had reported a different method, so he was left floundering for answers. The only thing he could think of was Bren’s little interruption.

And speaking of interruptions, Spencer’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone frantically knocking on the door. He threw his books down onto the couch, rushing over to the front door of the apartment.

When he opened the door, Brendon was standing outside, as expected. 

“Brendon! You seemed upset, are you okay?” Spencer said as he stepped back to let Brendon inside. He looked all over Brendon’s face for some sign of what was wrong.

Brendon had his fingers crumpled up into the hem of his shirt and his lower lip bit between his teeth. His eyes glistened wildly.

“Uh, I haven’t, been feeling good,” Brendon said nervously, following Spencer towards the living room. 

“Like, sick?” Spencer asked, sitting onto the sofa. He stacked up his books and pushed them to the side.

“Like...” Brendon paused as if he was considering something, then slowly continued. “Hungry.”

“Well,” Spencer said with a tense laugh, “have you been eating?”

“Yeah yeah,” Brendon replied hastily. “When I first felt hungry it was the first thing I did. It didn’t- it didn’t help.”

“Okay,” Spencer said, biting his lip. “Um, anything else?”

Brendon sighed softly, rocking on his heels. 

“I’ve been really...” he trailed off, face flushing slightly.

“What?” Spencer asked, cocking his head to the side.

Brendon breathed out heavily again, mentally steeling himself. 

“Been really...horny.”

Brendon drew out the ‘o’ when he spoke, as if afraid to finish the word. His face was flushed pink, and he curled his toes in his shoes. 

“Oh,” Spencer replied slowly, trying not to react poorly and further embarrass Brendon. 

“Sorry this is probably just really weird for you and I didn’t want to bother you but I didn’t know who else to ask and-”

“Hey,” Spencer said, cutting him off. He grabbed Brendon’s shoulder gently, making Brendon jump at the touch. “Look, Bren. Calm down. I’ll help you out as best as I can,” he said. “Okay?”

Brendon nodded slowly, digging his fingers into his shirt. 

“I have an idea as to what it might be,” Spencer said, grabbing the grimoire off the seat next to him. 

“What?” Brendon asked, his voice strained and soft.

“It’s possible that our summoning...malfunctioned,” Spencer replied. 

“You mean,” Brendon twisted his shirt, “other than failing to summon anything?”

“That’s the thing.” Spencer leafed through his grimoire until he came to the pages he had used to mock up his ritual. “I think we did summon something.”

“W-where is it then?” Bren didn’t really need to ask; he didn’t really want to know, and he already had a pretty good idea. But in this scenario, that was the socially acceptable response. He drew in a slow breath.

“I think it’s in you,” Spencer said, biting down on his lip and closing his grimoire. 

Brendon stayed quiet for a minute, his eyes nervously scanning the room. Even as he stood there with Spencer, he could feel hunger gnawing at his stomach and arousal heating his groin. He fidgeted with his shirt, trying to ignore it. 

“What does that mean?” Brendon asked, finding his voice again.

“You’re possessed by a succubus now, Bren,” Spencer admitted slowly. 

Brendon wanted to start screaming, but he bit the inside of his cheek and held the sound inside. 

“Please Spence,” he muttered, “you’ve gotta help me fix it. I-I’m starving and…” He silenced himself before he mentioned his uncomfortable arousal. “You have to help me out this is so scary,” he pleaded. His knees pressed together, legs swaying unsteadily. Spencer pulled a sympathetic face. 

“Hey, sit down man. You look like you’re about to fall over,” he said. Brendon sat next to him, crossing his legs hard and tangling his fingers in his hair. 

“Spencer please I don’t know what to do,” he breathed. 

“Hey it’s gonna be okay Bren,” Spencer replied, setting his hand on Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon jerked away slightly, taking in a sharp breath. “I promise I’ll research this and try to find a way to reverse it. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. In the meantime though, there’s the very real possibility that you’ll starve if you don’t...feed.”

Brendon practically shivered when he heard the word ‘feed’. The glossy look in his eyes worried Spencer. 

“For a succubus, food won’t do it,” Spencer said. “Succubi feed on, well, sex. I assume you knew that but...” 

Brendon clenched his fingers.

“If I don’t have sex...I’ll starve to death?” Brendon asked nervously. Facing the reality that he had a real succubus inside him would have been difficult enough without the screaming hunger and the tight feeling of being painfully aroused. He could barely accept it as real in his state of confusion and panic.

“I don’t want to scare you, but yeah,” Spencer replied solemnly, nodding. He was keeping his voice as even and gentle as he could, for Brendon’s sake. 

“Spencer,” Brendon gasped out, “you know I...” He trailed off quickly, rubbing his eyes. 

“W-what counts?” he asked.

“Hm?” Spence said, watching Brendon’s face closely. 

“What counts as...feeding?” Brendon carefully avoided the word ‘sex’, trying not to recognize the implications of what was going on. 

“I think, if your experience is consistent with what I’ve heard, you need a partner.” Brendon let out a groan. 

“But, any sexual action should help a little,” Spencer continued. “If you give or get like, a handjob, it should help a little, but other things like blowjobs would feed you a little more. Essentially,” Spence concluded, “the more intimate it is, the more it’ll feed you.”

“Spence I don’t know if I can do this! I mean-” Brendon ran his fingers through his hair frantically.

“You have no choice, Bren,” Spencer replied softly. “I’ll work on reversing this as quick as I can, I promise. But you need to be alive until then.”

Brendon let out a breath. “This is miserable,” he complained. 

“I’m sorry Brendon.”

“Spencer I...I have no idea what to do- what am I going to do?” Brendon pulled his hair sharply, kicking his feet against the sofa in frustration. His eyes grew wet with tears.

“Brendon, Brendon,” Spencer cooed, wrapping his arm around Bren’s shaking shoulders. Brendon shuddered softly. “I’m gonna fix this Brendon, I swear,” he promised. “Just, find someone to feed off until I can fix this. You’ll make it through this Bren. It’s okay. It’s okay. You’ll be alright. I’m here for you, I’ll help you with whatever I can.” 

Brendon choked back a sob, leaning into Spencer’s touch. 

“Promise it’ll be okay?”

“Mhm. It’ll be okay. Anything I can do to help Brendon? You want water? Want to take a nap?”

“No no,” Brendon replied, wiping away a tear that had leaked out of his eye. 

“I-I think...I need to go out.” He choked on the word ‘out’ like his tongue had grown thick in his mouth. 

“I need...to feed.”


	3. Nervous Sweat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brendon does what he has to do, which happens to be Ryan.

There was a frantic knocking on Ryan Ross’ apartment door that startled him out of the book he was reading. 

“One second!” he shouted as he flipped down the corner of the already dog eared book, tossing it onto the floor. 

Ryan quickly made his way over to the door, peering through the peephole to see who was waiting on the other side. 

Brendon looked more disheveled than usual; his hair frazzled and his clothes wrinkled and mussed. Ryan immediately felt uneasy, and he opened the door.

“Hey Brendon. You...didn’t call or anything. You want to, um, come in?” Ryan said, his gaze travelling over Brendon’s shivering frame. He was twisting his feet around, and his thighs pressed together tightly. His fingers pulled the hem of his shirt down, wrinkling up the fabric. One sleeve was rolled up higher than the other, and his lower lip was bitten raw. His hair looked as though he had been running his fingers through it over and over. There was something wild in his eyes. 

He nodded numbly in response to Ryan, stepping awkwardly in as soon as Ryan moved back. Ryan closed the door behind him, concern evident on his face. 

“You look...well, you look like shit, Brendon,” Ryan said slowly. He walked towards the couch where his book still lay on the carpet. “S-sit down, okay?”

Ryan took a seat on the sofa and watched as Brendon perched himself on the edge of the cushion. 

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked, furrowing his brow as he spoke. Brendon laced his fingers in his lap, staring at them intently. He opened his mouth, but closed it again, not speaking. 

“Brendon?”

The only sound Brendon made was a kind of wavering groan, and Ryan panicked. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice audibly tinged with worry. 

“I-I’m...starving,” Brendon said softly. 

Ryan recoiled slightly. 

“I have food Brendon. Here, I’ll get you something. Are you out of money? You’re always welcome to stay with me until you’re okay,” Ryan said, standing up quickly. 

“No it’s…” Brendon managed, running his dry tongue over his lips, “I don’t need food.”

Ryan paused, cocking his head before he sat back down. 

“That’s...that’s what starving usually means, Brendon,” Ryan said. “What do you mean, then, if you don’t need food?”

Brendon continued to stare at his hands intently, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles. 

“Maybe you could help- that’s why I came over- but not if you don’t- if you can’t- cause it’s uncomfortable- and I’m not sure really what to do- but Ryan...” Brendon trailed off after he said Ryan’s name, meeting his eyes for the first time. Ryan shivered when they locked eyes, and he nodded, prompting Brendon to try to finish talking. 

“I...I need you to fuck me.”

Ryan was pretty sure he was crimson. Literally crimson, or some other poetic shade of red to describe the mortification he was feeling. Vermillion, carmine, cherry: red. 

The potent cocktail of embarrassment and abject horror at Brendon’s state made Ryan feel choked, barely able to speak. 

“Brendon- I- what-” Ryan sputtered, his voice weak. “Are you okay?” 

There was a moment of agonizing silence before Brendon shook his head a little. 

“I- Spencer and I- tried to do magic- to summon something- but we fucked it up Ryan, we fucked it up- and it’s in me and it’s hungry- and Ryan it’s bad it’s real bad-” Brendon’s glazed eyes welled up with sudden tears.

Ryan had to force himself to act on impulse and empathy, to act without thinking or else he knew he would simply be overwhelmed into stillness and silence, a total shutdown. Instead, he cut Brendon off, grabbing his shoulder firmly. 

“Hey, shhh, it’s okay.” Ryan tried to keep the unsureness out of his voice, but he still sounded strangled. 

“Please help me,” Brendon said, his voice quiet and frail. He was surprised he wasn’t crying.

“Yeah...okay Brendon, okay...”

Ryan was scared and he wasn’t sure agreeing was the right answer, but the flicker of hope in Brendon’s eyes was reassuring. 

“Ryan, fuck, thank you,” he said in a breathy voice. 

His hands almost seemed to move on their own, reaching out for Ryan needily, his sweaty fingers grasping clumsily at the buttons on Ryan’s shirt. Ryan backed away the slightest bit, startled by his intensity.

Brendon’s hands were shaking, and he fumbled with the top button for a moment before Ryan brushed his fingers out of the way and undid it himself. Brendon hated that he couldn’t get it done by himself, and he aggressively grabbed the bottom of the shirt, pulling it off of him. Ryan numbly watched the way he sucked on his lower lip intently. He could feel his heart pounding so hard he was irrationally worried his ribs might break. 

Brendon felt just a little better when he could see Ryan’s naked body. His mind felt oversaturated with the number of things he could do, and he eventually settled on taking his own shirt off. Everything he did took so much of his concentration.

Just having their shirts off wasn’t enough, and Brendon reached out for Ryan’s jeans. In another situation, Ryan would have laughed fondly at his enthusiasm, but it was too terrifying. 

“I got it,” Ryan said lowly, undoing his pants as Brendon watched with mindless fascination. He grabbed Ryan’s hips as soon as his pants were undone, yanking his jeans and boxers down. His eyes gleamed, and he looked up at Ryan for a moment, as if asking permission. Ryan nodded softly, not trusting himself to say anything, and Brendon’s hand was immediately wrapped around his cock. He stroked him, already quick with his movements, all his actions almost animalistic, clearly driven by instinct alone.

He babbled mindlessly as he tried to get Ryan hard.

“I need it so bad- thank you thank you- I- Ry-” 

Brendon’s mouth hung open slightly, and he pressed his free hand against his own erection. Now that Ryan’s attention was attracted to it, he realized Bren must have been hard since he walked in the door, likely before then. He realized that must have been uncomfortable, and took pity on him, reaching down towards his waist.

“Oh!” Brendon said, a crooked smile appearing on his face. He watched with what appeared to be genuine appreciation as Ryan undid his pants and helped pull them off. His boxers had a moist patch where his cock had leaked precum into the fabric. There was a trace of embarrassment on his face when Ryan eased his boxers off. Ryan felt relieved to see even the traces of humanity that made it through despite Brendon’s state.

Ryan watched as he laid back to expose his ass, his cock was flushed and hard. 

“You...” Ryan paused and swallowed hard. It felt surreal, seeing Brendon that way. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I don’t know, I think so,” Brendon said. “I’m...clean,” he added, blushing even harder than before and turning away to stare at the floor. “It was awful,” he continued unhelpfully. He looked like a deer in the headlights. “But I looked it up- what I needed to do- and- and- yeah.”

“Okay,” Ryan said breathlessly, completely mortified. He pushed ahead on impulse, for Brendon’s sake. “Y-you’re...clean then, but did you, you know, uh, finger yourself?”

“I’m sorry Ryan I c-couldn’t do it,” Brendon said in a hurry. “I tried but I’m- I’m a mess.”

“O-okay Brendon. Do you want to...try again or...” Ryan bit his lip before he continued. “I could do it,” he suggested. 

Brendon’s eyes went wide and he nodded quickly.

“I want you to do it,” he said eagerly. Ryan was kind of taken aback by his reaction, but he _had_ suggested it, so he nodded. He needed to help Brendon. 

“I need to get some lube then,” he said. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.” 

He walked quickly. Ryan didn’t want to leave Brendon alone in that state, and he could hear him groaning lowly from the other room as he rifled through a drawer for lube. He heard Brendon whine out, and it made him uneasy. He grabbed some lube, and hurried back into the living room.

Brendon looked very small on the couch, his legs now tucked over his ass. When he saw Ryan had returned, he spread his legs again, looking away. 

“Oh my god,” Ryan whispered under his breath. He wanted to say something reassuring, but he couldn’t believe what was happening was real. Brendon Urie, one of his best friends, was laying on his couch completely naked and begging for sex, and Ryan was about to give it to him too. 

“You need to relax as much as you can,” Ryan said as he opened the lube and squirted some onto his fingers. He dropped it onto the couch. “I’ll go slow.”

“No!” Brendon protested, frantic. “I need you- I need you to do it fast so you can fuck me!”

Ryan pressed the back of his clean hand against his mouth, his eyes wide and shiny. It seemed like every word Brendon said was painful for him to hear.

“I’m not going to go so fast I hurt you,” he said when he pulled his hand away. 

Brendon whined but didn’t argue with him. He almost seemed too far gone to try to form a solid argument.

Ryan climbed onto the couch, positioning himself between Brendon’s legs. He didn’t know if looking Brendon in the eyes would reassure him or if looking away would make him less embarrassed, but something in him longed to see the humanity in Brendon’s eyes again. He bit his lip and leaned in close, pressing his wet fingertips to Brendon’s hole.

“Oh god! Fuck!” Brendon swore, reaching up suddenly and wrapping his hands behind Ryan’s neck.

Ryan took that as a good sign, and slowly pushed his index finger into Brendon. Brendon whimpered as he slid it in and out of him. Ryan looked down and met Brendon’s eyes. 

He could identify fear in Brendon’s eyes, but there was something else in there too that Ryan couldn’t place. 

“Are you okay? It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asked.

“No, add another,” Brendon entreated him. “I can take it.”

“Relax then. You’re tense,” Ryan said. Brendon sighed heavily. 

“I’m trying but this is not a very relaxing situation to be in, Ryan,” he said huffily. 

“Okay I’m sorry. I know,” Ryan said gently, genuinely sympathetic. He smiled weakly at Brendon before he eased his second finger in. 

“Holy shit!” Brendon said breathily. 

“Okay?” Ryan asked, curling his fingers up slowly. 

“Y-yeah, fuck, it’s tight,” Brendon groaned. Ryan scissored his fingers slightly, nodding.

“Oh Ryan,” Brendon moaned. “This is crazy.”

“I know,” Ryan agreed. “But I’ve got you. It’s okay.” He pressed his fingers up a little and Brendon squealed, squirming on the couch.

“Please hurry up, please,” Brendon said impatiently. “I can’t take it anymore!”

Ryan nodded, pulling his fingers out of Brendon slowly. He grabbed the lube again and squirted some more on his fingers. He tossed it off to the side, and Brendon let out a whine as he watched Ryan slick himself up. 

“Please Ryan please,” Brendon moaned, rubbing himself as Ryan hovered over him.

“Okay baby I got you,” Ryan murmured, pressing the the head of his cock to Brendon’s ass. Brendon squirmed down against him needily, his mouth falling open. 

Ryan pushed into him in one smooth motion, and Brendon made a sound of relief. Already, he knew he was going to be satiated, and just the thought made his mouth water uncontrollably. 

“Move,” he whispered.

Ryan complied, snapping his hips into Brendon. The look of bliss on Brendon’s face kept him going. Brendon whined, breathy and high. His pale torso gleamed with sweat, and he raised his hands up to grasp Ryan’s hips. 

Ryan moaned lowly, listening to the way Brendon groaned needily. He leaned forward more, his knees digging into the couch. Brendon’s legs rested on his thighs, knocked around a bit by his movement. 

“Ah Ryan thank you thank you,” Brendon muttered. “Up, a little bit up-”

Ryan complied and Brendon let out a whine. 

“Good good it’s good thank you thank you-” he yelped. Ryan bit his lip. Hearing Brendon’s relief made Ryan feel better himself. 

He, admittedly, wasn’t being as vocal as Bren, but he wasn’t sure if Brendon even cared. His head was tipped back and he looked lost, his fingers clutching onto Ryan like he was the only real thing.

“Ryan, Ryan,” he panted.

“Uh huh?” 

“Does it- is it good?”

Ryan could see it in his eyes, the desperate need for affirmation. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. Brendon smiled up at him gratefully. He looked so fragile. 

In another situation, Ryan would lean down and kiss him.

He was brought back to the situation by the creeping pleasure of an oncoming orgasm. His rhythm stuttered for a second as he took a deep breath and moaned. 

“Are...are you close?” Brendon asked between breaths.

“Mhm, yeah,” Ryan managed. He felt unfocused. 

“Please Ry, I need you to cum for me,” Brendon murmured, his eyes glazing over a little. 

Ryan’s breathing grew shallower as he thrust his hips again and again, sweat dripping down his pale back. He made a soft whining sound as he felt his body clenching.

“I-I’m gonna cum, Brendon,” he moaned. 

“Please,” Brendon groaned.

Ryan couldn’t help bucking his hips into Brendon as he came. He whined softly.

When Ryan came, Brendon writhed like he was being electrified. The insatiable hunger was replaced with a warm, fluttering contentment, and the arousal he hadn’t been able to shake finally broke like a fever as he came onto his stomach with a gasp. 

His whole body went limp after he finished, and he blinked slowly as if he’d just woken up. Ryan pulled out slowly, dropping his hand to gently cup Bren’s jaw.

“Hey, you with me?” Ryan asked.

“Uh,” Brendon said, eyes whirling around. “Oh my god.”

Brendon sat up against the arm of the sofa. Ryan sat down, looking at Brendon, concerned.

“You okay? You here?” he asked, reaching out towards Brendon.

Brendon recoiled, reaching down to snatch his clothes off the floor. “I-I’m sorry I can’t believe- it’s- I’m sorry- I’ll- I’m gonna-” He muttered incoherently. Brendon felt his lungs clenching up, and he fought back tears and hysteria.

“Wait, Brendon we-”

“No, no, I-” Brendon stood up hastily. His face was flushed, from embarrassment and the exertion. He yanked his boxers and jeans up quickly. 

“I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go,” he said as he pulled his shirt on hastily. 

“Brendon!” Ryan protested as he stood and made his way towards the door.

“I just can’t do this at the moment, Ry,” Brendon said loudly as he opened the door.

“Brendon please!”

Ryan stood, but didn’t move any further, seeing as he was still naked. He bit his lip, and watched hesitantly as Brendon closed the front door.


	4. Phantasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it's the middle of the night.

Brendon could feel Ryan’s presence looming over him, a weight he felt deep into his core. There was a terrifying, splitting, ripping pain between his legs, but to Brendon’s horror, he couldn’t seem to look down. Only up at Ryan’s chest shining with sweat, Ryan, smiling at his pain. In fact, as he struggled to push Ryan off, Brendon realized he couldn’t make his body respond at all, as if everything was stiffly held in place, tense and tight. He screeched out in pain and horror, the sound torn out of him, completely out of his control. 

He felt Ryan’s hips slamming against his too hard, Ryan’s hands wandering dangerously up to his neck, squeezing, choking. Brendon’s screams were cut off abruptly by Ryan’s grip, which tightened by the second. Brendon’s lungs burned, and just before his vision could go blissfully black, Ryan released him and Brendon was left staring in shock.

Ryan had a wide mouthed grin and eyes as scarlet as hot coals, hot coals that fell out of his head and landed on Brendon’s chest, leaving empty charred pits in his face.

Brendon was immediately overwhelmed by the searing, burning pain- he screamed and Ryan laughed at him. 

Brendon’s body thrashed and seized uncontrollably but the heat only seemed to spread, engulfing him and Ryan in a blistering fieriness. It felt like a horrifically intense sunburn over his entire body. His ears were full of the oppressive sound of loud white noise, static that blurred his brain. He couldn’t think over the sound. Ryan’s face looked sharp and alien in the harsh fiery light. Where their bodies were touching, Brendon’s flesh sizzled, releasing an awful stench into the air. 

It was hell, and he was there with Ryan.

Brendon woke up with an audible gasp. 

His room felt cold, a stark contrast to the impossible hotness of his dream. The disparity made him feel feverish. He had thrashed all the blankets and sheets clean off his bed in his sleep. 

Brendon turned to his side and curled in on himself, quaking. He was unable to hold in his sobs, tears spilling down his cheeks. His crying seemed to escalate incredibly quickly, and within moments he became a shivering, sniffling mess, his face red and covered in tears. 

He couldn’t shake the nightmare out of his head. It was Ryan’s laughter that hurt the most; the image, the idea of Ryan _enjoying hurting him_. The hyperventilating and the choked sobbing echoing in his room were a testimony to that. 

Normally, if he had a nightmare that scared him that badly, he would have called Ryan, and the loneliness made everything hurt just that much more. 

Across town, Ryan was also awake in his bed. 

Unlike Brendon, Ryan was not crying. He had his face buried in both of his pillows, and then he rolled over and spread his body out as best as he could. He’d been shifting around since he laid down hours ago, and he was still completely unable to sleep. 

He felt dirty and guilty, and as he watched the clock tick to three in the morning, he slowly sat up. 

He grabbed his phone off the bedside table and froze. 

He wasn’t sure who he was even planning on calling. He needed answers, but calling poor Brendon was out of the question. He felt guilty for even considering it. It took a few moments for his sleep deprived brain to remember Brendon mentioning Spencer. 

He decided to call Spencer.

The phone rang three times before Ryan heard Spencer’s tired voice. 

“Fuck.”

“I’m sorry Spence,” Ryan muttered back.

“Are you okay? You’re not in trouble are you?” Spencer sounded sympathetic. 

“I can’t sleep, and I’m not okay, but I’m not in any danger,” Ryan said slowly. 

“So you’re not okay emotionally then,” Spencer said matter-of-factly.

“Correct.”

“Well tell me quick.”

Ryan sighed. He wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened. 

“Something’s wrong with Brendon.” Ryan’s voice cracked.

Spencer was silent. All Ryan could hear was his own breathing. 

“Spence?”

“Okay, listen Ryan. It’s very complicated, but Brendon and I did a spell that had some unintended effects on Brendon. He told me he- well, he’ll be okay for tonight, alright? It’s kind of a lot, I think you should come over tomorrow when I’m not half asleep so I can explain it better.”

Ryan laid back in his bed and chewed on his fingernails. 

“Ryan?”

“You promise he’ll be okay?”

“Yes Ry,” Spencer said gently. “Get some sleep please.”

“Sorry I woke you up,” Ryan replied. “Goodnight.”

Spencer grumbled. 

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yes Ryan.”

Ryan tried to sleep.


	5. Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan and Spencer have a pleasant talk, and Brendon makes it not as pleasant.

“Hey, come in, Ryan,” Spencer said, holding his door open. Ryan walked in, smiling softly at the gesture.

“Hey dude. I’m sorry about last night,” Ryan said as they walked over to the sofa.

“It’s fine,” Spencer replied. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. “I forgive you. I know this is sort of a...well, a pressing issue,” he added. Ryan nodded.

Spencer sat down on the couch, and Ryan sat next to him. Ryan interlaced his fingers and placed them in his lap, a nervous look in his eyes. He licked his lips before he spoke.

“So. What, uh, what’s going on here?” he asked shakily.

Spencer took a deep breath before he answered.

“Brendon and I attempted to do a summoning a few days ago. In the middle of everything, um, there was a distraction, and I messed up and said his name. So, instead of summoning the entity normally, it possessed Brendon. It...the entity...it was a succubus.”

The concept of possession made almost too much sense. Ryan couldn’t keep away the image of Brendon’s glazed over eyes and shaking hands, and he leaned slowly to hold his head in his hands. He sat silently for a moment, breathing deeply.

“What does that mean for him?” he asked quietly.

“I’ve been researching it. It’s not like...an Exorcist possession. It’s more like Brendon’s sharing a body with the succubus, but he’s the one in control still. But, um, Brendon needs...”

“Sex,” Ryan said flatly. He couldn’t even really believe he’d said it. 

Spencer’s eyes went wide, but after a moment he nodded slowly. 

“I- Ryan, how did you even know something was up?” he asked, sounding tense.

Ryan laughed lightly under his breath, a nervous laugh.

“He...came over to my house last night...and begged me...I-I-I fucked him...” he muttered, staring at the floor.

“Oh,” Spencer said softly, voice full of thinly masked horror. He bit his lip. “I...well...thank you for keeping him alive I guess.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said breathily, laughing a bit. It sounded too high in his ears. 

“Last night he told me he was going to, um, feed,” Spencer said awkwardly. “That’s why I told you I knew he would be okay. I-I didn’t know it would be you.”

“Yeah.” Ryan sounded almost sad.

“It makes me feel better to know it was...someone Brendon can trust.”

Ryan felt a wave of guilt rush over him at Spencer’s words, but his mouth felt too dry, and he couldn’t bring himself to object.

“Do you think you can...fix him?” he asked quietly.

“I’ve been looking into it,” Spence said. “No one who’s done this specific ritual has ended up with a possession. I’m going to research other exorcisms, but a succubus isn’t a typical possession. I’m doing everything I can.”

“Thank you,” Ryan said gently.

There was a sudden, loud knocking on the door. 

“One second,” Spencer said, standing up. He already had an inkling as to who was at the door based on the frantic pace.

When he opened the door, Brendon was standing there waiting for him.

“Hi Brendon...you doing alright?” Spencer asked. Upon hearing Brendon’s name, Ryan froze up. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m doing better today. Much better. Can I come in?” Brendon asked. 

“Yeah,” Spencer said, stepping out of the way. Brendon stepped in quickly. He saw Ryan sitting on the couch, and his gaze immediately glanced off into the corner of the room. 

“Okay...Spencer...have you made any progress on a reversal?” Brendon said. He was clearly unsettled by Ryan’s presence. Ryan stayed silent and still. 

“Uh, well, not really. I’m looking into exorcisms, but a succubus possession is a little different. I’m trying my best, but there isn’t a lot of information on succubus removals,” Spencer admitted. Ryan could tell he was being genuine, but Brendon snapped.

He balled his fingers up into fists, pushing his heels into the ground indignantly.

“I just can’t believe I’ll be stuck like this!” he shouted. Spencer recoiled a bit, reaching his hand out towards Bren. 

“It’s gonna be okay just-”

“No! It’s not okay!” Brendon yelled. “It’s seriously fucked! I’m gonna have to keep having _meaningless sex_ with Ryan-” he pointed his whole arm in Ryan’s direction and Ryan winced, “or- or- or with _someone_ and- and I can’t fucking handle it! I can’t handle this!”

Brendon grabbed the front door roughly and slammed it behind him as he stormed out into the hall. 

Spencer was left with his mouth open, and Ryan slowly raised his head up. 

“I...I’m sorry about that...” Ryan said softly.

“It’s not your fault-”

“I’m gonna go try to talk to him,” Ryan said, standing up from the couch. Brendon in distress was becoming almost magnetic to him, he thought. 

“Okay...” Spence replied, opening the door for Ryan. Ryan tugged the hem of his shirt down nervously. 

“Good luck,” Spencer said. Ry nodded as he left.


	6. The Addition Of Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan and Brendon reconcile.

Ryan walked briskly down the halls of the apartment. Part of him wanted to call out for Brendon to find him faster, but the silence was more comfortable. He thought Brendon would appreciate him staying quiet as well. His fingers ran along the wall as he walked.

Brendon was still dashing away, and Ryan saw him at the end of the hall. He broke into a run.

Brendon must have heard his footsteps, because he bolted, turning a sharp corner. 

It was a dead end.

Ryan came to a stop behind Brendon, placing his hand softly on Brendon’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Ryan said, then softer, “hey.”

Brendon whirled around, his face red and his eyes wide. 

“N-no- w-w-” Urie sputtered. His hands clenched into fists instinctively. 

“Please, Brendon, relax. How about we just...have a seat for a minute, okay?” Ryan said, trying not to let his panic show in his voice. 

Brendon bit his lip, feeling a lump rising in his throat, but he obeyed and slid down to sit leaning against the wall. Ryan lowered himself to the ground as well. He could see the glossy wetness in Brendon’s eyes that warned of tears.

Ryan wanted to fix it, wanted to calm Brendon down and reassure him. He leaned close, reaching out to attempt to wrap his arms around Bren. 

“N-no!” Bren yelped, shoving Ryan’s arms away. His voice wavered as tears threatened to spill out of him. 

Ryan felt like Brendon had punched him when he brushed him aside. He wanted to get mad, or to react in _some_ way, but he heaved out a breath and steeled himself. Ryan knew he had to be the rational one in this situation. They both had a lot on their plates, but Ryan admitted that containing a succubus was probably additionally stressful. 

“You know, I’m not...mad about what happened,” Ryan said quietly. 

“I-I’m just upset about my _situation_ ,” Brendon interjected, his voice strained. 

“I know. I know you must be, a-and, rightfully so,” Ryan replied, his fingers tracing patterns in the carpet. “If it’s, you know, any consolation, I enjoyed the sex,” he continued. He swallowed thickly.

Brendon blushed, and a smile crept onto his face. He reached up to wipe away the tears that had welled in his eyes.

“You mean it?” 

“Yeah, yeah I mean it, definitely, cause I lo- I wouldn’t lie to you,” Ryan said, the words coming out jaggedly. He bit his lip. 

“You trust me?” Ryan asked, standing up and offering Brendon his hand.

“Y-yeah. I didn’t stop trusting you, Ry,” Brendon replied, grabbing Ryan’s waiting hand and standing. “I was just...mad at the situation, not you.”

Ryan nodded. 

“Why don’t you come over for a while, okay?” he suggested. Brendon bit his lip, but nodded in agreement. 

“You live close enough,” he said. “Closer than me.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed softly. 

They walked out of the apartment building with Brendon’s eyes trained on the floor, and Ryan’s gaze fixed on Brendon’s hands. Ryan opened the front door for Bren, who smiled softly as he stepped out into the cool evening air. 

The sun was glowing as it hovered above the horizon. The smog of the city cast the light beams about, forming rich, strange colors around the sunset.

The boys walked in silence towards Ryan’s apartment, not far down the street. Brendon was still stressed, but the comfort Ryan had already provided was starting to settle his nerves. Ryan did feel apprehensive about the whole issue, but he wanted desperately to help. He cared about Brendon, no matter what had happened last night.

Ryan led Brendon into his apartment building and up to his home. Bren walked as if in a daze. He knew the way to Ryan’s apartment usually, but not having to remember or think about it was comforting.

Ryan unlocked his door, guiding Brendon inside. Bren smiled weakly at him, his gaze lingering awkwardly on Ryan’s couch. 

“This might sound weird, but can we...not be in this room?” he asked.

“Sure, whatever you want, Brendon,” Ryan assured him. “My bedroom?”

Brendon nodded. Ryan smiled, trying his hardest to keep everything as light-hearted as he could. 

When they walked into the bedroom, Ryan sat on the edge of his bed, surprised with the ease with which Brendon clambered on beside him. Brendon laid down on his side, curled slightly. There was a tenseness and a worry radiating off of him, and Ryan fell back to lay beside him. 

Just being close to him made Bren want to cry again. He sniffled, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes grew wet again, uncontrollably. 

“Hey, is it okay if...I...hold you?” Ryan asked in a fluttery voice, his face painted with concern. He was almost overwhelmed by the need to hug Brendon to his chest and reassure him that everything would be alright. Brendon nodded weakly. Ryan scooted over to him, wrapping his arm around Brendon’s shoulders.

“It’s gonna be okay, Bren. I promise. We’re gonna work this out,” Ryan said, his voice soothing. Brendon sniffled, curling into Ryan’s grasp. 

“I’ll be here for you. I’m here, to help you. Whatever you need, okay? Anything. I want you to be okay,” he continued. Ryan pressed a chaste, soft kiss to Brendon’s hair. Brendon felt like his heart rate sped up, like his heart actually _fluttered_ in his chest. Ryan was so warm.

They were silent for a moment, Ryan reaching up to stroke Brendon’s hair. He felt safe, he felt cared for. His fingers trembled as a confession bubbled up into his mind.

“T-that was...Ry, that w-w-was my...first time...doing anything like that...” Brendon stuttered, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. 

Ryan felt sick to his stomach. His throat went dry, and he held in a gag. He felt disgusted with himself, and he went rigid and tense.

“I didn’t...I didn’t know Brendon...” Ryan said softly. “I’m...I’m sorry. I didn’t want...to take that from you, you know.”

Ryan wasn’t sure if the sound Brendon made was a sob or a laugh. He didn’t speak, and Ryan ran his shaking fingers through Brendon’s hair. 

“Do you hate me for it?” he whispered.

“No, I don’t,” Brendon replied, surprisingly blunt. Ryan had expected either an outburst of anger or some strange confession of love. Though it didn’t make Ryan feel that everything was resolved, it did make the deep feeling of disgust dissipate.

“I...can I make it up to you?” Ryan breathed out. 

“How?” Brendon asked, his voice dry.

“I don’t know exactly, but...something like...when you feed again, I’ll make it special, perfect. I’ll make sure...and it can be like...a replacement for your first time. Yeah?”

“Okay. Thank you. But, Ryan...” Brendon trailed off.

Ryan held him tightly, pressing light kisses to his head. 

“I...even then...I...Ry...” Brendon’s voice was weak, wavering. Ryan shushed him quietly, stroking his hair.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s alright,” he soothed. 

Brendon was growing slightly frustrated with himself for not being able to say what he wanted to. He bit his lip, raising his hand up to Ryan’s and threading their fingers together. Ryan blushed, glad Bren couldn’t see his face. 

“I _chose_ you,” Brendon said, his voice cracking. Ryan smiled weakly. 

“I know,” Ryan said. “But it was-”

“You were my first choice,” Brendon interrupted weakly. 

Ryan fell silent, pressing his lips together. He knew to some extent that the sex had been with him in particular for a reason, but Brendon’s words made his heart swell embarrassingly. 

The only sound in Ryan’s room was slow breathing and the drumming of heartbeats. Brendon rolled over, pressing his face into Ry’s chest. Their clasped hands collected between them, and Ryan’s free hand stroked Bren’s hair and neck. Ryan could hear Brendon’s breathing evening out and growing slower, a sure sign he was falling asleep. He must have been emotionally exhausted, which cause him to be physically tired as well. Ryan glanced down at him, something protective drawing up into his head. 

He decided Brendon needed to rest, and held him tight.


	7. Looking Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan walks Brendon home and makes an effort to treat him nicely.

Brendon woke up to Ryan shaking his shoulder softly. For a moment, his head spun with confusion, and he couldn’t remember where he was or how he had ended up there. He locked eyes with Ryan, and his silent panic dissipated. He breathed out slowly.

“What time is it?” Brendon asked blearily. 

Ryan turned to glance at the clock on his bedstand. 

“It’s like, ten,” he replied. 

Brendon blushed. He certainly hadn’t meant to fall asleep in Ryan’s bed like that, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind.

“Hey, you know...thanks,” Bren said softly. “I didn’t mean to get so upset. I’m glad you...were there...are here.”

Ryan nodded slightly. 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he asked. Brendon felt himself flush red at the offer. It was so innocent, and he wondered how anything Ryan did could still make him blush. 

“Yeah. That’d be nice,” Brendon agreed. 

Ryan climbed out of the bed, and Brendon followed slowly. 

“Do you think it’s cold out?” Brendon asked as they made their way towards the door. 

“I don’t know. You can borrow something from me if you want,” Ryan said, pointing at the coat closet. Brendon forced himself to look at the closet, and not the couch.

“Are you sure?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah, of course, Brendon. Jesus,” Ryan said, running his fingers through his hair. “What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“Okay okay sorry I didn’t mean it like that,” Brendon said, smiling. 

Ryan opened the closet, and Brendon felt like he’d opened a portal to a flower shop. He hadn’t expected any different. It was disorganized, scarves and a few gloves piled up on the top shelf, and various coats and jackets hanging below. On the floor, Brendon even saw an umbrella with a floral pattern.

Ryan grabbed a scarf off the top shelf with ease that suggested he knew the mess very well, wrapping it around his neck. He gazed up at the scarves for a moment before taking another one down.

“You need two scarves?” Brendon asked with a giggle. 

“No!” Ryan said with a hint of indignation. He reached around Brendon’s body to wrap the scarf around his neck, huffing at him. 

“Oh,” Brendon said, reaching up to grab the fabric around his neck. 

“Do you want a coat?” Ryan asked, turning his gaze back into the closet. 

Brendon clenched his fingers into the soft material of the scarf. It smelled like Ryan’s cologne, and at first Brendon had no desire for a coat, but the idea of being consumed in something that smelt so distinctly like Ryan was appealing.

“Sure,” he said, voice unsteady despite his best effort to sound stable. Ryan didn’t comment on it, just pulling out a jacket and tossing it at Brendon. 

Ryan and Brendon made their way down the hallway, both lost in thought. Brendon was quite content to just be covered in Ryan’s clothes, knowing Ryan cared enough about him to even offer them. 

Ryan wondered about the commitment he had made to Brendon. The promise of sex romantic enough to make him forget his horrifying demon fueled first time was quite a lot. 

Ryan bit his lip, eyes cast to the place where the ceiling met the hallway’s wall. He didn’t honestly know what Brendon would consider romantic. He’d never given it much thought, and they’d never really talked about it at any length. 

Ryan glanced over at Brendon, only for a second, before his gaze was cast back to the walls. He opened the door of the apartment building for Brendon, watching him with a slight smile. 

When they made their way outside, Ryan shivered at the cold night air. He clenched his fingers together into loose fists, cast back into the anxiety of trying to figure out what Brendon would want. He could just ask, but Ryan wanted to prove himself to Brendon. In some way, he wanted to prove he cared. 

Ryan cast his gaze to Brendon’s hands. He cursed himself for not offering Brendon gloves. His own fingers were cold, and he knew Brendon’s probably were too. 

He wanted to hold Brendon’s hand.

It was a good start, Ryan decided. He breathed out heavily from his nose, mentally steeling himself. 

As he reached out for Brendon’s hand, Ryan wondered why he felt so apprehensive to do so. 

“Oh,” Brendon said softly, turning his head quickly to look at Ryan. Ryan hoped he wasn’t blushing. As he had expected, Brendon’s fingers were cold, but so were his. Their hands were clasped loosely. In his speed, Ryan had just grabbed Brendon’s hand with no finesse. Their fingers weren’t entwined comfortably, and Ryan felt relief wash over him as Brendon shifted his hand to fix that. 

As they walked, Ryan found it very hard to balance his focus on planning, walking without running into anything, and actually holding Brendon’s hand. As they rounded the corner towards Brendon’s apartment, Ryan finally decided that his best bet was something simple. A nice dinner and an evening without the mention of demons seemed like a good bet. For as much of a romantic as Ryan was, he found himself at a loss for any ideas more complex than that. He wasn’t sure had the capacity for anything more.

Ryan was suddenly aware that they had stopped moving, and he looked over at Brendon with wide eyes. 

“This is my apartment building, Ry,” Brendon said with a giggle.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was distracted,” Ryan replied sheepishly.

“I could tell. I’d, uh, ask if everything was okay but...you know...I’m not sure anything is okay...” Brendon said. Ryan gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, I’m…relatively alright, I was just thinking about...next time.”

Brendon blushed and turned away.

“Brendon,” Ryan said softly, “whenever you...want that...just let me know. You can come to my place, a-and, I’ll make sure it’s...well, at least better.”

Brendon smiled at him, squeezing his hand back. 

“D-do you want your stuff back-”

“No, don’t worry about it. Just bring it to my house, ‘kay?” he replied hastily. 

“Alright. Uh...goodnight, Ry,” Brendon said. Ryan ran his thumb over Brendon’s knuckles. 

“Goodnight, Bren. If you need anything, you know, let me know. I’m...here,” Ryan stuttered. 

“I...thank you.”

Ryan watched Brendon go into his building, reaching up to grab at his scarf for some sort of comfort.


	8. A Wonderful Caricature Of Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan and Spencer have a conversation about what they anticipate will happen next.

Spencer had just finished cleaning up his lunch, which he had eaten while balancing both texting Ryan and reading articles on demon possessions, when he heard Ryan’s quiet knocking on the door. 

“Coming!” he called out, walking slowly to the door. 

When he swung the door open, Ryan had a very odd expression on his face that Spencer honestly couldn’t fully place. There was certainly some degree of discomfort in the way his lips curled, but also joy in the gleam of his teeth and worry in his knit brows.

“I’m stressed the fuck out,” he said exasperatedly, throwing his hands up as he moved into the apartment with the ease that only years of experience could provide. 

“I think we all are,” Spencer replied shortly. Ryan just huffed back, throwing himself on the sofa.

“Aw man, you have no idea,” Ryan said, burying his face in his hands. “Making any progress? I’m really actually very worried about Brendon.”

“I’m worried for him too. He doesn’t deserve all this...shit,” Spencer said, taking a seat next to Ryan on the couch. Ryan nodded, turning to him with a grim smile. 

“I’ve been trying my best,” Spencer continued. “I’m really looking everywhere I can, Ry, but when I said there wasn’t much out there on succubus possessions, I meant it. Seriously.”

Ryan bit his lip and fumbled with the button on the end of his left sleeve. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said.

“It’s...not,” Spencer replied hesitantly. “I mean, I still hope I can find a fix for this but...”

Spencer’s voice suddenly dropped off, and Ryan watched him make intense eye contact and purse his lips hard. 

“Promise you won’t tell Brendon,” Spencer said in a low tone.

Ryan’s eyes went wide and he worried his sleeve more, curling his toes in his shoes nervously before he nodded. 

“I’m worried he might be stuck like that. Like, forever,” Spencer said, mouth dry. 

Ryan knew that was a possibility, but hearing it right from Spencer himself made it more real. Swallowing thickly, he just pushed his heels back into the cushions of the couch and let out a weak breath through his nose.

“God, I just don’t want- I don’t want that for him,” Ryan said sullenly. “Fuck!” he yelled. Spencer recoiled slightly, but kept a sympathetic expression. 

“I know it’s-”

“No there’s something else too,” Ryan interrupted, losing confidence as he continued. By the time he spoke again, his voice was drained of any power and anger. 

“Last night, I caught up to him in the hall.”

“Oh.”

“He was...he was a mess, Spence. He told me he wasn’t mad at me he was ‘mad at the situation’,” Ryan made small air quotes as he spoke, “whatever that means. I- we went back to my apartment.”

“ _Oh_.”

“Oh god no Spencer,” Ryan said, his brow furrowed and his mouth agape. “The state he was in? No, no. We just went to my place.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to well...imply, it’s just that I don’t know, I thought maybe he...needed it again.”

Ryan cringed at the idea of Brendon _needing_ sex. Even the way Spencer was clearly avoiding coming out and saying it was kind of making his skin crawl, like they both knew the topic was so fucked up that neither of them wanted to be the first to call it by name. 

“He’s only doing it cause he needs it,” Spencer said, looking at the floor. “No offense to you, by the way. It’s just that, he’s not a slut or something.”

There was no venom behind the accusation, and Spencer’s voice sounded hollow. Nevertheless, Ryan was perturbed by the vague idea that Brendon could be somehow perceived as immoral for a horrifying situation that he couldn’t control. It made him mad to think of the men who would eagerly accuse him of being a slut or a whore, the men who would take advantage of his condition and hurt him. It made him feel sick. 

Ryan wasn’t certain he was too far from those men. 

“Spencer, I was kind of wondering about that.”

“About what?”

“If I’m...using him,” Ryan said measuredly. He tried to keep all the sickening and dizzying emotions out of his voice. 

“He needs you,” Spencer said.

“I know- I know he needs me, but that’s only...the sex,” Ryan hated putting it into words, but he needed to explain himself. “There’s something else.”

Spencer was quiet, scowling slightly. Ryan looked at him, but his harsh facial expression made his gaze drop away.

“I feel like he’s purposefully being _intimate_ with me,” he confessed. 

“He’s emotional,” Spencer retorted, “and you’re fucking him.” 

Ryan winced. 

“So of course he’s being intimate. He’s going to be emotionally attached to you, _and_ you’re one of his best friends anyway. I don’t think you’re using him, at least not on purpose, but don’t toy with his emotions, Ry.”

“I-I’m not!” Ryan protested, his voice catching embarrassingly in his throat. “I don’t want to use him. I just think it could be something more than that and I want your opinion.”

“Well it’s not really my place to say what it is. Besides, I already gave you my two cents. I think he’s just emotional and in a tough spot, end of story,” Spencer huffed. 

“He fell asleep,” Ryan said. “At my house. On my bed. With me in it. I _held_ him while he fell asleep.” 

Ryan paused to inhale shakily. Spencer’s irritation seemed to have left him, and he was watching Ryan with calculating eyes. 

“Spencer, did you know he was a virgin?” he asked finally. 

“Yeah,” he replied solemnly. 

“I feel awful about that. I do, I really do. He...said I was his first choice. I mean, Spencer, that has to count for something, right?”

Ryan looked over at Spencer with wet, worried eyes. Spencer chewed his lip thoughtfully before he answered. 

“Yeah. He _did_ choose you. Ryan, I know he really cares about you, even if it’s always been in a platonic way up until now. And _that_ counts for something too.”

“Yeah, yeah. It does.” 

Ryan ran his hand through his hair slowly. 

“I’m...really afraid if he’s...stuck like this, but I think I’ll be equally afraid for the aftermath if you _can_ fix him.”

“Don’t be selfish, Ryan,” Spencer said in a sharp, warning voice.

“That’s not what I mean,” Ryan snapped back. “It’ll be awkward! The sex will still have happened. The sex will probably stop, but I’m afraid he won’t want the intimacy anymore either.”

Spencer was quiet for a minute as he processed Ryan’s reply. 

“Oh god,” he said. 

“Yeah.”

“You’re totally falling for him.”

“ _Yeah_.”

The silence that sat between them was drowning Ryan. He struggled just to breath evenly and not fidget right out of his skin as he waited for Spencer’s judgement. Too consumed in his worry, he didn’t notice Spencer was looking at him imploringly. 

“Ryan!” Spencer said firmly, snapping him into reality.

“You promise me you’re being genuine and this isn’t just cause he had sex with you?” Spencer asked warily.

“Promise,” Ryan answered. “It’s...been a creeping feeling since even before then.”

Spencer shook his head with a low nervous laugh. 

“Well then Ry, I hope you’re right about him being intimate on purpose and not just emotional. I’d like to see you two happy, regardless of the succubus,” he concluded, smiling gently.

Ryan returned the smile as best as he could. 

“I hope so too.”


	9. High Concept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan puts into action his plan to give Brendon a second chance.

Every time Ryan thought about Brendon, it made him feel nervous, and he couldn’t think about anything except Brendon. His brain was stuck, and it left him pacing his living room anxiously.

He didn’t really know how many days Brendon could go without feeding, but he had decided it was much easier to do it a bit early to avoid the horrifying starved state Brendon had been in the first time. That was too taxing on Brendon, and also pretty much impossible to spin into something even resembling romance. 

Considering they’d actually _had sex_ before, Ryan thought that it shouldn’t have been making him as nervous as it was. He’d leapt a significant hurdle the first time, so he was a little mad at himself for being nervous over what he expected to be a much calmer second run. There wouldn’t be any of the terrifying desperation. 

The only rational explanation Ryan could provide for the anxious twisting of his belly was the prospect of messing up the romance aspect of it. He wondered if he set the bar too high with his promise to Brendon. 

He had procrastinated more than long enough. Ryan sighed and dialed Brendon’s number.

The phone rang in his ear twice as he continued pacing. When it stopped, he stood still.

“Hey Ryan,” Brendon said, slow and plain. 

“Brendon.”

“Yeah?” Brendon sounded intrigued and a little confused. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight. My place.”

Ryan’s voice had become distinctly flirty, as if it was as easy as flipping a switch. The suddenness caught Brendon completely off guard, and he blushed furiously on the other end of the line as he tried not to choke. He had certainly never imagined one of his best friend’s asking him over in that tone of voice. 

“Yeah yeah. Uh, six?” he said shakily.

Ryan squinted at the clock on his oven.

“Six is good for me. See you soon.”

Ryan had a hard time leaving it at that, as if some other thoughts were trying to be heard. Still, he listened to Brendon struggle out a goodbye, then hung up.

He had surely sounded confident, but it was reassuring to hear from Brendon’s voice that they were equally nervous. That made him smile softly as he walked into the kitchen.

His gaze caught on the vase in the center of the small kitchen table. He’d gone out to get flowers and somehow shelled out the extra money and ended up with a small bouquet of pink roses. He thought maybe that was all a bit too much. They were kind of embarrassing. The woman working at the shop had even smiled at him and said something about how happy his girlfriend would be. In the store, that had made him laugh, but now it was making him grind his teeth.

Brendon was about as far from his girlfriend as possible.

As Ryan went through the motions of cooking, he could feel the anxiety in him intensifying. With each minute that ticked by, it was closer to six, and he was closer to seeing Brendon again. It seemed to itch inside his skin. 

The bottle of red wine on the counter was tempting. If his willpower was weaker, he would have poured himself a glass. He knew that if he was drunk, he’d hate the results very much, so that was that, and he didn’t drink, and he let the anxiety run it’s course.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Brendon knocked on the door. Two minutes past six. 

Ryan put on the most confident smile he could manage and rushed to greet Brendon.


	10. Fuchsia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brendon and Ryan try a second time.

Brendon had been very unsure about how to dress for dinner with Ryan. Still, when he sat at the table, Ryan said, “you look nice,” and Brendon blushed. 

While they ate dinner, Brendon had to concentrate on trying not to say anything stupid and sappy. 

There was a sort of placid stillness in the room. Stillness usually felt stifling, but this was more of an all-encompassing tranquility that made Brendon and Ryan feel safe compared to the frenzy still fresh in their minds. 

Everything seemed easy. 

When Ryan laughed, Brendon couldn’t help but giggle along. Ryan’s laugh reminded Brendon of stars. If he were more poetic, like Ryan, he could probably work that into a nice metaphor, but instead he was just stuck with the image of stars glittering.

When Brendon smiled, Ryan felt like maybe he was doing all this stuff right. 

After they finished eating, the dinner lapsed into silence for a moment. In the absence of other stimulus, both immediately began thinking about the end goal of the night. Ryan knew Brendon was thinking about it, and Brendon knew Ryan was thinking about it too. It made Brendon look down at the table as Ryan stood to put the dishes in the sink. 

Ryan still felt predatory. He was doing everything possible to diffuse that impression, but the feeling was still inside him. He hoped Brendon felt safe. He hoped Brendon didn’t feel like prey. 

“Honestly,” Ryan said as he turned back to Brendon, “I don’t know where to go from here.”

“I-I’m sure you have more experience with this than me,” Brendon said.

“Sure but...this is different. You’re different,” Ryan said softly. 

“Sorry,” Brendon replied, looking down.

“Hey you don’t need to apologize,” Ryan said. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

Ryan had already become more concerned with caretaking again. His smile was softer.

“Yeah,” Brendon found himself agreeing.

“Uh...if it sounds good to you, we could go...” Ryan trailed off, tangling up his fingers. His voice wavered. 

“Huh?”

“Sorry I’m nervous,” Ryan admitted. That was hard for him to say. He’d tried to make himself look confident, but he was nervous and he was scared and he was vulnerable. The illusion was falling apart, but Brendon didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I am too.”

“Sorry, I was trying to say, we could go...cuddle. If you want to. If that’s not too weird.”

“Uh,” Brendon hesitated and Ryan worried he’d screwed it up. “Yeah. Just...not on the couch, if that’s okay.”

Ryan nodded, relieved. 

“The bed then,” he said hurriedly. 

“Sure. Yeah. That sounds good,” Brendon agreed. As he stood up, he rocked on his heels with excited energy. It was so familiar to Ryan, the way Brendon would glow and vibrate when he was happy. 

Brendon bounced when he stepped as they walked to Ryan’s bedroom, losing just a little momentum when they passed the couch. Ryan noticed, but he said nothing. 

Brendon fell onto Ryan’s bed with a long sigh. He looked up at Ryan from under his eyelashes, and Ryan felt like he was being tugged onto the bed alongside him by an unseen force. He laid down on the other side of the bed, and the bed which usually felt somewhat small when he was alone suddenly felt gigantic. He felt like no matter how far he reached, he’d never be able to touch Brendon on his own isolated side of the bed. For a quiet and awkward minute, he couldn’t even look over at Brendon, leaving his eyes up on the ceiling. 

Slowly he turned his head to look at Brendon. Brendon was pointedly forcing himself to look at the ceiling. 

Ryan sighed, and Brendon looked over at him with a soft frown.

“Sorry I know I shouldn’t be complaining,” Ryan said, “but this is just a little weird for me still.”

Brendon nodded.

“It’s...weird for me too. It’s okay,” he said. 

They went silent again for a minute, Ryan now watching Brendon. He could see Brendon’s chest rising and falling heavily as he took deep, slow breaths like he was trying to calm himself. 

Ryan gathered himself up and scooted closer to Brendon so their hips were touching awkwardly for a moment before he rolled to face Brendon, leaning up on his elbow. Brendon turned his head and smiled, just a little. 

“It’s okay,” he said, nodding.

Ryan slowly lowered himself off his elbow and laid his arm out for Brendon to set his head on, body turned in to face Ryan. Ryan knew his arm would probably go numb soon, but he didn’t care. 

Ryan blushed despite himself. Brendon was warm all over, and Ryan felt Brendon’s hot fingertips find the sliver of bare skin on his hips where his shirt rode up. 

“You’re clingy, Bren,” Ryan observed.

“Oh, sorry,” Brendon replied, going to untangle himself from Ryan, thoroughly mortified.

“No hey!” Ryan interrupted, stopping him with a hand on his lower back, drawing him back in. “I was just noticing. You don’t have to stop.”

“Oh!” Brendon said. He paused for a second before he leaned into Ryan’s touch. 

“You want me to put the TV on?” Ryan asked quietly. 

“Mhm,” Brendon answered.

Ryan leaned away for just a moment to grab the remote. When he turned the TV on, it was something he didn’t recognize. It looked like some sort of movie, and he could immediately pick out harsh lighting and an abundance of pinks that made him suspect it was from the eighties. 

Brendon seemed content, so he let it drone on in the background and turned his gaze down to Brendon. 

Background noise seemed to remove some of the tension from the room. Ryan relaxed into Brendon’s body. He could feel Brendon’s wandering fingers trailing around his spine. He let his free arm drop to stroke Brendon’s hair. Brendon looked innocent, bathed in the fuschia glow from the television. It hid the blush on his cheeks. 

Ryan wanted everything to stay like that forever. With the chatter of the movie in the background, Ryan didn’t have to try to provide confident conversation. He could divert all his attention to watching Brendon’s subtle movements. Ryan noticed the way he blinked, long and sleepy and content.

He wanted to kiss him.

Ryan felt guilty for thinking it at first, trying to remind himself that this was sex for the sake of Brendon’s life, not some sappy bullshit. Then he recalled, eyes trained on the television, that tonight was supposed to be romantic. Tonight he was allowed a little sappy bullshit.

“Brendon?”

Ryan was surprised his voice didn’t crack.

“Mhm?”

“You can say no if you want to...I was just thinking...about it.”

Ryan went silent for a moment, and Brendon raised his head to look up at him but didn’t speak.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?” Ryan said slowly. There was a lump in his throat that made it hard to talk.

“O-on the mouth?” Brendon asked quietly. 

Ryan nodded slowly. 

“Yeah,” Brendon said. “Yeah.”

Once Ryan pressed his lips to Brendon’s, he thought someone had muted the TV. Brendon was the only thing he could focus on: the roughness of Brendon’s bitten lower lip, the tightening of Brendon’s grip on his shirt, the warm dance of Brendon’s fingers crawling up his back. 

Brendon couldn’t help the movement of his hands. Something inside him was screaming at the sensation of Ryan’s soft lips on his, and it seemed to be half from joy and half from horror. Brendon couldn’t concretely place it as either. 

Ryan pulled back to draw in a shaky breath. Seeing Ryan’s face made Brendon inhale too, and they both stayed poised for a moment, dazed.

Ryan felt dumbfounded. Not because it was some tremendously good kiss that suddenly opened his eyes and made him see the world differently, but simply because this was _Brendon_ , one of his best friends. And that was beyond weird.

“That was okay,” Brendon lied quietly. Okay was the last word to describe it. It was fantastic and disturbing, but it was not okay. 

“Again?” Ryan asked, already knowing the answer before Brendon nodded. When you experience something as viscerally powerful as kissing your best friend that you probably love under the guise of being nice, you’ll always chase that high.

When they kissed again, the sensation wasn’t as stunning and surprising, but it still made Brendon shudder and Ryan feel deaf. Ryan noticed how gentle Brendon was, slightly unsure, and he had to remind himself Brendon was definitely less experienced than him.

When he drew back and Brendon inhaled loudly, Ryan said, “that wasn’t your first kiss, right?”

“No, no,” Brendon assured him. “I mean, I haven’t kissed a whole lot of people but no. Not the first.” He sounded breathless.

“The first guy?” Ryan asked quietly, looking at Brendon’s shoulder awkwardly.

“No, but...it wasn’t serious,” Brendon said, shrinking into himself. “It was a joke. Mostly. It wasn’t like this,” he concluded. 

“I think a lot of people do stuff like that,” Ryan said. “You’re good with...this though?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Brendon said, and just like that, he leaned up and kissed Ryan. Ryan was pleasantly surprised, smiling just a little as he kissed back.

“You’re funny,” Ryan said when he pulled back. 

“I’m...trying to be...confident,” Brendon said, not meeting Ryan’s eyes.

“You don’t _sound_ confident.” Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“I’m _not_.”

“Then don’t pretend to be,” Ryan said. “Let me...pretend to be.”

They both giggled.

“Why do you have to be the one pretending to be confident?” Brendon asked through his giggles.

“Got to maintain appearances, right?” Ryan joked. “But seriously,” he frowned, “you need it. I mean, you’re doing your best. Let me take some of the stress.”

Brendon appeared to mull this over for a second before he accepted it, nodding.

As Ryan kissed him again, he pulled his arm out from under Brendon and moved so he was over Brendon from the waist up, supported by his arms on either side of Brendon.

It felt kind of amazing to Brendon, letting Ryan kiss him gently. When Ryan withdrew for a second, Brendon threw his hand around the back of his neck to hold him close. It felt so good to be close, to be able to see all of Ryan’s eyelashes. 

“I just...like being close,” Brendon confessed when he noticed Ryan’s skeptical look.

“Clingy,” he said with a smile.

“Sure,” Brendon agreed.

When Ryan kissed him again, he pulled his leg all the way over Brendon’s body, straddling his hips. Brendon made a strangled little noise of surprise against Ryan’s mouth.

“Sorry,” Ryan said when he pulled back. “Still good?”

“Yeah...just surprised me a little,” Brendon said, nodding. Now that Ryan’s body was blocking the glow of the TV, it was clear that Brendon’s face was pink with blush. 

Ryan stretched out to grab the remote from the soft bed, hitting mute. The silence made everything feel more intense. Brendon could hear Ryan’s _breathing_. It was driving him crazy. 

Ryan hesitantly pushed his hips down against Brendon’s, studying his face as he did. 

“Oh!” Brendon gasped, his eyes going wide and his jaw tipping back a little. He didn’t seem upset to Ryan in the slightest, so Ryan cracked a smile before he returned to kissing him. The kiss lasted longer, and Ryan softly licked at Brendon’s mouth. Brendon seemed to hesitate a second, but he let his mouth open and he reached up and held onto Ryan’s hips. 

Ryan tried to turn his brain off and let his body go on autopilot, but that was very hard. When you’re a thinker, _not_ thinking doesn’t come all too naturally. He wanted to stop focusing, to not think about the way he and Brendon were both getting hard, to not think about Brendon’s hands tugging him closer, to not think about the needy press of Brendon’s tongue against his own. But, clearly, that wasn’t working.

Ryan pecked Brendon softly before he pulled up, reaching down and caressing Brendon’s cheek in a way that made his breath hitch.

“Tell me what you want,” Ryan said softly. Brendon could feel his breath on his face, and it should have been gross, but it wasn’t.

“Please,” Brendon’s voice was hushed, “fuck me. Be gentle.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said with a nod, “yeah.” 

Ryan set to work undressing Brendon, starting by pushing the hem of his shirt up his chest to reveal Brendon’s smooth stomach. He dropped his head and began trailing gentle kisses from Brendon’s hips up his stomach. Brendon writhed slightly below him. 

“That tickles!” he huffed. Ryan just smiled against his skin and pulled Brendon’s shirt higher, revealing his chest. 

“Sit up,” Ryan said, leaning back. Brendon sat up just a bit, letting Ryan slip his shirt off him completely. 

When he laid back down, Ryan was on him in an instant. Ryan kissed all over Brendon’s chest, each time drawing teasingly closer to his pink nipples. His left hand smoothed absently over Brendon’s stomach, while he maintained a tight but not rough grip on Brendon’s hip with his right. 

When Ryan’s mouth finally did brush one of Brendon’s nipples, he let out a humiliating squeak. 

“You alright?” Ryan asked, mouth hovering over Brendon’s nipple hesitantly. 

“I mean, yeah, I’m just not...used to- gosh, this is all so hard to talk about,” Brendon complained. He sighed before he continued. “I’m not used to my...nipples getting any attention.”

“Are they sensitive?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t know I just said I’m not used to them being touched!” Brendon said exasperatedly. Ryan sat up a bit straighter and chuckled. 

“Okay sorry,” Ryan said, smiling. “In that case, can we find out?”

Brendon mulled it over a second and decided there would be no harm in it. 

“Fine. But, you know...gentle,” he said. 

Ryan nodded. 

“Gentle,” he repeated back.

Ryan raised his hand to lightly roll Brendon’s nipple in his fingers. He lowered his mouth to Brendon’s other nipple, licking it in warm, broad strokes. He looked up at Brendon expectantly. 

Brendon’s eyes looked unfocused, and once he noticed Ryan looking at him, he nodded and whined softly in the back of his throat. 

Pleased, Ryan changed to flicking his tongue pointedly over Brendon’s stiffening nipple. Brendon, seemingly not knowing what to do with his hands, was grabbing at the bed near his hips. 

Ryan sat back upright and smiled at Brendon. Brendon made eye contact with him for a second before smiling, blushing, and glancing away. 

Ryan began undoing Brendon’s jeans, peppering his hips with kisses. He pulled the jeans down Brendon’s long pale legs, occasionally stopping to kiss them. 

It takes a certain level of affection to kiss someone’s legs, especially if they’re somewhat plain and slightly hairy. It takes a strong dose of adoration for something as simple as your partner’s fairly average legs to be well appreciated. That registered with both the boys, but neither said anything as Ryan pressed more kisses down Brendon’s shins.

He reached up and hooked his fingers under the waistband of Brendon’s boxers, looking up to him for approval. Brendon was blushing, but he nodded eagerly. 

Ryan pulled down Brendon’s boxers, and Brendon turned his head to the side, flustered. 

“Come on now baby, it’s okay,” Ryan said, slightly surprising himself that he could still say anything with a half-steady voice. Brendon swallowed hard, but turned back and met Ryan’s eyes. 

“Do...you want to prep yourself or do you want me to do it?” Ryan asked, running a flat palm up Brendon’s thigh. 

“I’ll do it,” Brendon said hesitantly. “You can undress,” he suggested. 

“Hold on,” Ryan said. Brendon frowned a little as Ryan slid backwards off the end of the bed, but then Ryan walked over to the bedside table and Brendon realized he was going for supplies. He mentally cursed himself for being so concerned. He should really learn to relax. Not that anyone would condemn him for his nervousness in this situation, he assured himself.

“Here,” Ryan said, handing Brendon a small container of lube. 

Brendon tried to focus on the task at hand, coating his fingers in lube while he watched as Ryan dropped a condom onto the bed then stepped back to undo the buttons on his shirt. With each button, Ryan revealed more of his smooth chest. His eyes were staring down at the buttons, concentrating, although Brendon suspected he was doing so mostly just to avoid looking at _him_. 

Brendon slowly lowered his hand between his legs, bending his knees up and watching Ryan strip down. He rubbed his fingers in a gentle circle around his entrance before he pressed his middle finger in. He let out a quiet gasp, which made Ryan’s eyes dart up to meet his. Brendon flushed pink and covered his eyes with his free hand. 

“Sorry!” he squeaked out.

“Don’t apologize,” Ryan insisted, pushing his pants down but still watching Brendon. “You’re making noise cause it feels good, yeah?” he said. 

“Yeah but it’s...embarrassing,” Brendon said. 

“Doesn’t have to be,” Ryan replied. “I like hearing it,” he admitted. “I like knowing you feel good.”

“Oh...okay,” Brendon said. He and Ryan were both red in the face now. And Ryan was watching him. But he hadn’t really even gotten started prepping himself, and he needed to. So, trying to put Ryan’s watchful eyes out of his mind, he continued. 

Brendon pressed his finger deeper into himself, letting his eyes flutter closed. He breathed heavily, and he was certain Ryan could hear it. He could take one finger easily, and it only took a few more thrusts before he pushed in a second finger. He whimpered slightly when he pushed it in, eyes snapping open to see Ryan in his boxers, eyes wide. 

“D-do you want me to not watch?” he asked. 

“It’s okay,” Brendon replied, biting his lip. “Just, you know, get undressed and all that.”

Ryan nodded, starting on taking off his boxers. 

Brendon hesitantly scissored his fingers in his ass. That felt alright, so he continued to press them deeper, his thumb rubbing slow circles over his balls. He let out a huff of breath before he pushed a third finger into himself. The motion pressed his fingertips against his prostate and Brendon groaned lowly at the feeling. 

Ryan sucked in a breath at that sound. It made something hot and tight coil up in him. He kicked his boxers off onto the ground and grabbed the condom he’d previously set on the bed, tearing open the shining foil and letting it drop to the carpet. He stroked himself a few times, listening to the soft noises Brendon made as he fingered himself. He was already plenty hard, so Ryan made quick work of rolling on the condom. 

Brendon looked gorgeous, Ryan thought, arching his back up as he fingered himself nice and slow. His eyes were shut tight but his mouth had dropped open, letting his quiet moans out. Ryan snatched the lube from where Brendon had dropped it on the pillow, making Brendon’s eyes snap open. He watched Ryan slick himself up with excited eyes.

“Ready baby?” Ryan asked. Brendon nodded, sliding his fingers out of himself. 

Ryan pushed Brendon’s legs out and kneeled between them, pushing in slowly. Brendon made a soft, choked noise and Ryan grunted lowly. 

“Okay?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay,” Brendon said, biting his lip to cut himself off. It was all he could do to stay quiet and let Ryan take care of him, let Ryan fuck him.

Ryan moved slowly, his mouth dropping to Brendon’s shoulder to kiss him over and over. He pressed his hips as close in to Brendon’s ass as he could; there was something about getting the most skin to skin contact possible. 

Compared to the warm playful chitter chatter of moments ago, the room felt stiflingly silent. There was something heavy and oppressive neither boy could name. It held strong as Ryan continued his slow pace into Brendon. The only sounds in the room were the low creaking of the bed and Brendon’s soft, panting breaths. 

After some time, it was Ryan who broke the silence.

“You’re good,” he said, his voice rough and straining. “You’re so good Brendon.”

Brendon made a startled noise in response before he collected himself and navigated his hands up to Ryan’s hips. 

“It’s good?” Brendon asked.

“ _You’re_ good,” Ryan corrected. “You’re good, you’re wonderful baby.”

Brendon wasn’t sure how to react to that, but an unwelcome thought climbed up into his head as he felt himself pressed into the mattress under Ryan’s weight. 

He was so in love with Ryan.

His whole body tensed involuntarily when the thought hit him, and he was surprised he managed not to cry out or, worse, say it out loud. But it was true. It was true; he was maddeningly, sickeningly, horrifyingly in love with Ryan. 

“Please,” Brendon finally said, and Ryan raised his head from its spot in Brendon’s neck, stopping his hips for a moment. 

When they locked eyes, Ryan could see how much of a mess Brendon was, like he was about to turn to liquid and soak into the bed. Brendon was reassured when he saw Ryan looked out of it as well, softer at the edges like an out of focus picture. 

“What is it?” Ryan asked after what felt like hours.

“I...” Brendon wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted. He paused a moment. “Talk to me,” he said. 

“Okay,” Ryan said, seemingly surprised at the simplicity of the request. 

He resumed his slow, even thrusting into Brendon, gritting his teeth momentarily before he began speaking again. 

“You’re doing so well, Brendon. You look beautiful like this.”

Brendon blushed at that. Beautiful? He wouldn’t consider himself beautiful. Handsome, maybe. Beautiful was a new one. 

“Y-you look beautiful all the time though,” Ryan continued. 

“Are you okay?” Brendon asked. Ryan sounded like he was choking up a little.

“Uh huh,” Ryan lied. He couldn’t really believe he’d said Brendon looked beautiful all the time, but it was true. He always looked beautiful in Ryan’s eyes, even crying, even angry. The love he felt for Brendon permeated so deep Ryan could barely believe it himself. He needed a second to get a grip on himself before he said something even more suspect. 

Ryan slowed down even more for a second, and Brendon could see Ryan breathing heavily above him. After a moment, he picked up speed again. 

“Baby,” Ryan groaned, “god, you don’t even know. I wish...I wish I had thought out some better ways to say it. You make it hard to think straight.”

Brendon let out a sharp cry as Ryan leaned back a bit and hit his prostate.

“Please, there, again, Ryan!” Brendon yelped, his hands moving up to loop behind Ryan’s neck. “God please!”

Ryan continued with that angle, his breathing coming out raggedly. He seemed to gulp in air like a drowned man. 

“I-I-” Ryan stuttered. “Brendon, you, you’re perfect.” 

“Please Ryan,” Brendon moaned. “Oh god, please I-”

“Bren,” Ryan said softly, “I’m gonna- fuck-”

When Ryan came, he moaned and arched his back, pushing shallowly in and out of Brendon. His eyes closed, and for the split second before he came as well, Brendon revelled in the look on his face. 

Brendon’s reaction was much less violent this time around, more like a shiver that ran through his whole body before he came with a soft whine. 

For a long moment, they stayed still, panting and trying to catch their breaths.

“If I get off you, you’re not gonna run out on me this time, are you?” Ryan asked, looking down at Brendon.

Brendon shook his head, seeming to be too exhausted to speak. Ryan pulled out and took off the condom as quick as he could manage, flopping next to Brendon on the bed once it was taken care of. The TV had turned to static, and Ryan turned it off. 

Ryan didn’t even ask before grabbing Brendon and holding him close, their naked legs pressed together. 

“Jesus,” Brendon mumbled. Ryan made a quiet sound of agreement.


	11. Better Than I Can Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brendon wakes up in Ryan's bed.

When Brendon woke up, he was wrapped in someone’s arms, the room too dark to distinguish where he was. His heart rate jumped from the slow pace of sleep to the panicked fluttering of an oncoming anxiety attack.

As the flash flood of adrenaline woke him up, Brendon suddenly remembered the night before. It came to him in fractured pieces like splintered wood, all bathed in magenta light.

Brendon felt awful. The adrenaline was beginning to make him shake in Ryan’s arms, and he prayed under his breath for the tremors to stop. 

His leg twitched, his breathing grew fast, his goddamn hands wouldn’t stop shaking, his eyes were getting wet with tears, his mind was racing.

He could picture the way Ryan had hovered over him. He could still feel the way Ryan had kissed him.

And, he was reminded, Ryan was right there behind him. Ryan was holding him. 

Brendon tried to even out his breathing, but it wasn’t working. Each time he attempted to breath slower he felt like he was suffocating, and he returned to the fluttering, uneven hyperventilation. He shuddered uncontrollably. He felt so small.

“Brendon?”

Ryan’s voice made Brendon’s whole body tense up, and he wondered how it was that he managed not to shriek.

“You’re shaking,” Ryan said, voice groggy with sleep. “Brendon? You’re shaking, Brendon.”

“I-I’m sorry, I woke you up,” Brendon sputtered. “I-I’ll try to stop shaking, j-just go back to bed.” 

“Brendon...” Ryan whispered, reaching up to pet Brendon’s hair. “Hey it’s okay. I’m not upset.”

Brendon tried to swallow back tears but it wasn’t working; his eyes were getting wetter.

“Are you alright, baby?” Ryan asked, his breath warm on the back of Brendon’s neck.

Brendon voice came out wavering. 

“I...I just can’t believe all this...you’ve been n-nothing but helpful a-and supportive...I-I don’t deserve all that, and I woke you up with all my stupid shaking and, and, I just feel like a manipulative piece of shit and-” 

Brendon gulped for air and shook violently in Ryan’s arms. Brendon’s tremors were so strong they shook Ryan’s body too, which broke his heart. 

“You deserve so much better than I can give you,” Ryan muttered. Brendon let out a sad laugh. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Better than you?” Brendon asked with flippant skepticism. 

“I’m not perfect, Brendon,” Ryan said lowly. 

“Bullshit,” Brendon said, his voice cracking. 

“You’re not being manipulative,” Ryan continued. “I don’t think so, anyway.” 

Ryan was tempted to add that he felt like _he_ was being manipulative, getting something out of Brendon’s misery. Putting it that way made him uncomfortable, and he swallowed the words back.

“I feel awful,” Brendon said, and Ryan held him tighter. 

“I wish I could convince you it’s okay. It’s okay and you’re going to be alright and I lo- I, I’m not mad,” Ryan murmured. “You’re okay. Breathe.”

Brendon reached up and grabbed Ryan’s hand, squeezing it tight and trying to breathe slower. Ryan rubbed his thumb over Brendon’s knuckles, and Brendon tried to match his pace with the movement. 

“Good,” Ryan said softly as he felt Brendon’s shaking begin to weaken. “Good job. You’ve got it.”

“Thank you,” Brendon said breathily. He didn’t know what else to say. He felt like there was more to say, but his sleepy, anxious brain couldn’t figure it out.

“What time is it?” Ryan asked gently. 

Brendon glanced over at the alarm clock on the side of the bed and groaned. 

“Six,” he told Ryan. “Sorry, it’s early.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ryan replied.

They laid still in silence for some time, groggy and content just to be pressed close together in bed. Ryan pressed a soft kiss to Brendon’s neck, and Brendon smiled into his pillow. 

“You want coffee?” Ryan asked sleepily after a minute. 

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Well I need coffee. Come on,” Ryan said, rolling away from Brendon to sit up. His fingers lingered on Brendon’s side, prolonging the moment until they were no longer touching at all and Brendon sighed.

They all but stumbled into the kitchen, Ryan rubbing along the walls for the lights. Brendon smiled dumbly at the floor as he sat down at the table. 

As Ryan started the process of making coffee, he noticed Brendon’s dedicated lack of eye contact. He was suddenly worried it was because he’d screwed something up, and before he could stop himself, he was asking about it.

“Brendon, are you not looking at me on purpose?” 

“Um,” Brendon said, scrunching up his eyebrows. 

“Cause of the romance stuff last night?” Ryan added.

“Um,” Brendon said. “No.”

Ryan was relieved to hear that. 

“It was nice. Last night was nice,” Brendon said. 

Ryan was more than relieved to hear that. He was quite happy about that.

“I just need some...time,” Brendon continued hesitantly. “To think about everything, you know?”

He looked up at Ryan hopefully, biting his lip. Ryan nodded firmly, but he was full of emotions he couldn’t place. 

“Of course. I understand that.”


	12. Estranged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brendon paces.

The twitching had started three hours ago, and Brendon still couldn’t make it stop. He had tried pacing to burn off the nervous energy, but it hadn’t helped at all. The tension had just been building and building, and Brendon knew there was only one way to make it stop. 

He wasn’t ready for that yet. 

He could still cling to his last thread of sanity a little longer, he told himself. The first time, he had waited quite a while to feed; he could do it again. 

Brendon knew he was pushing it. He was well past hungry. Need was coursing through his veins, making his hands shake and his head spin. Brendon couldn’t even control the occasional desperate whimper that came out of him. 

Brendon knew the solution. He could almost picture the glorious release. It made his mouth water. 

He paused by the couch to pick up his phone. If he wasn’t moving somehow, he was certain he would go insane, and he quickly started his pacing back up. Brendon was almost certain he had messages from Spencer and Ryan on his phone. He couldn’t imagine they would just let him hide for five days without even trying to get in contact. 

Brendon wasn’t ready to look, not yet. 

The hunger was making him irritable, and he knew that. He was worried if he spoke to Spencer or Ryan, or even just messaged them, he’d be snippy and rude and just end up driving them away. He was already isolating himself, but it was different when he was doing it by choice. 

Brendon let out a sudden gasp of breath as a powerful shiver wracked his whole body, twisting his knees together and making him sink down and grasp out for the wall. His thighs squeezed around his cock and he moaned quietly. He bit down on his lip as he hauled himself up, legs quivering and threatening to let him fall down. 

He all but threw himself onto the sofa, breathing heavily. He was falling apart and burning up, like a fire had spread all over his body. The hunger was unbearable, the way it hurts when you could swear your stomach is eating itself. 

Something about the hunger made Brendon feel like he would never be welcome in his own body. He felt so detached, like a stranger in his own skin. He was beginning to think the body belonged more to the succubus than it did to him. He was desperate for some sense of autonomy back. 

Still shaking, Brendon looked down at his phone. Another awful wave of longing washed over him, and embarrassingly, he felt himself leaking precum in his pants. He felt disgusting. He wanted to shower. He was afraid his legs might give out in the bathroom and he’d end up cracking his head on the tiles. And what, Brendon thought, was the point of having sex with Ryan if he was just going to die from blunt force trauma anyway?

Thinking about Ryan almost made him tear up. He was terrified to face Ryan again, dreading it like it was apocalyptic. 

He was so worried he was falling in love with him. 

Brendon knew that wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be sex for the sake of self preservation. It was supposed to be emotionless. But leave it to him and Ryan to be unable to keep emotions out of it. 

Not that Brendon blamed Ryan at all. In fact, he was determined to take all the blame himself. He wouldn’t let Ryan have any of it. 

He couldn’t keep avoiding Ryan. He would starve.

Brendon physically caved in on himself a little, and opened his texts. 

Message from Ryro three days ago at 1:45 p.m.  
hey

Message from Ryro three days ago at 3:19 p.m.  
are you busy or? 

Message from Spence three days ago at 5:27 p.m.  
Hey dude what have you been up to? 

Message from Ryro three days ago at 9:52 p.m.  
are you ignoring me? did i do something?

Message from Ryro three days ago at 10:04 p.m.  
seriously we should talk

Message from Spence two days ago at 11:39 a.m.  
Hey are you doing alright? 

Message from Spence two days ago at 12:08 p.m.  
Do you need anything? Can I help?

Message from Ryro two days ago at 2:16 p.m.  
Brendon are you okay?

Message from Ryro two days ago at 3:04 p.m.  
i’m sorry if i did something wrong i’m worried about you Brendon can we please talk?

Missed call from Ryro two days ago at 3:07 p.m.

Message from Spencer two days ago at 3:11 p.m.  
If you need time alone, it’s alright, but I would prefer if you told me that so I could stop being so worried. 

Message from Ryro two days ago at 4:48 p.m.  
are you home?

Brendon remembered that, and the memory stung. He had heard knocking on the door and managed to drag himself over just to look out the peephole and see Ryan. Ryan had looked so nervous, like a sixth grade boy asking a girl to the middle school dance. Brendon hadn’t been able to do anything but sink down to the ground, back pressed to the door. 

Message from Ryro two days ago at 5:01 p.m.  
i went by your place but i guess you weren’t home

Message from Ryro yesterday at 3:45 a.m.  
Brendon

Message from Ryro yesterday at 3:46 a.m.  
Brendon please tell me you’re okat at least

Message from Ryro yesterday at 3:46 a.m.  
baby

Missed call from Ryro yesterday at 3:47 a.m.

Message from Ryro yesterday at 3:49 a.m.  
i just want you to be okay and i want you to be happy Brendon ig you need anything tell me please

Missed call from Ryro yesterday at 3:56 a.m.

Message from Spencer yesterday at 2:20 p.m.  
Brendon, Ryan seems really worried about you. I know you probably need space and time to yourself, but we’re worried about you.

Message from Spencer yesterday at 2:22 p.m.  
I’m worried about you. Ryan said you haven’t fed in a while. At least with him.

Message from Spencer yesterday at 2:30 p.m.  
I don’t know how long you can go without feeding. You probably know better than I do. And hell, maybe you’re feeding off someone else. 

Message from Spencer yesterday at 2:35 p.m.  
But you need to do it. Please.

Message from Spencer yesterday at 2:38 p.m.  
I’m sure it’s hard. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.

Message from Ryro at 12:56 p.m.  
Brendon

Brendon was only aware he was crying when he put the phone down in his lap and swiped away the tears.


	13. In The Wash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author discovers the joy of making their readers upset.

There was a knocking on Ryan Ross’ apartment door that startled him out of the daze he was in.

“Oh god,” he said in a breathless whisper. “Brendon.”

Ryan bolted over to the door as fast as he could manage, fumbling with the door knob with a sudden desperation. He had been so calm only moments ago, and he was marginally angry with himself for being so quick to turn emotional. 

Brendon was more of a mess than the first time. His hair was tangled, and Ryan could tell he had been dragging his hands through it like a frantic mad man. Ryan got the distinct impression that he had changed clothes several times trying to pick out a coherent outfit but had still mostly failed. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Ryan interrupted him in a broken voice.

“Holy shit I barely know what to say, Jesus I- Brendon, come in,” he babbled. He was choking up as he spoke; he felt like he was swallowing nails.

Brendon stepped inside unsteadily, and Ryan was so tempted to grab him and hold him tight but the rational part of him knew Brendon would freak out from his touch. He was shaking already, practically quivering. It hurt Ryan’s heart. It hurt him more this time, knowing exactly why Brendon was suffering, and knowing just how much Brendon was suffering.

“You were avoiding me,” Ryan said in a teary voice. Brendon nodded in the loosest definition of the word, head lolling around. 

“W-why?” 

Though Ryan’s tone was anything but accusatory, Brendon felt accused. 

“I was scared!” he admitted in a shrill voice. He clenched his hands into fists, cramming his arms in close to his sides.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ryan said shakily. “Look, I-I-”

Ryan swallowed hard as he took in Brendon’s horrific appearance. Brendon swayed weakly like he had just learned to walk. His eyes darted all around the room, landing everywhere but Ryan’s eyes. 

“I know what...needs to happen, Brendon, you- you don’t have to say anything,” Ryan said, his heart racing. “I’m ready to do whatever you need, baby.”

Brendon winced at the pet name.

“You look like you’re gonna pass out. Sit down?” Ryan asked. 

Brendon nodded, and took a step towards the sofa, but his legs immediately gave out and he reached out for Ryan with a gasp. Ryan grabbed him around the waist with both arms, Brendon’s face falling softly onto his shoulder.

“My god,” Ryan breathed. 

Brendon groaned in agreement.

“It’s okay Brendon, it’s okay I got you,” Ryan murmured, slowly walking Brendon to the couch, the scene of their first deviation from their platonic relationship. 

“Please,” Brendon said in a quiet voice when Ryan helped him sit on the couch. 

“Yeah Brendon, it’s okay,” Ryan replied. 

Brendon was on the verge of tears and Ryan wasn’t far behind. Brendon sniffled weakly in the way Ryan knew he always did to keep himself from crying. Ryan could see the tears shining in his eyes, and it was something he never wanted to see ever again. 

“Please Ryan.”

Ryan hated the way his name sounded when Brendon said it so sadly.

“Please...be gentle,” Brendon said, still sniffling.

“God, of course Brendon. I would never hurt you,” Ryan said, his eyes wide. He hadn’t moved from where he stood opposite Brendon on the couch.

“C-can you close your eyes?” Brendon asked weakly. 

“Close my eyes?” Ryan repeated. “I don’t understand.”

He had already seen Brendon naked; they’d had sex twice. He couldn’t understand what Brendon would want to hide.

“Just when- when we-” Brendon tried to speak but he cut himself off with an awful sob as the first tears finally flowed out of his eyes. 

“Please Ryan, just promise you’ll keep your eyes closed,” Brendon begged, tears rolling down his face as he grabbed at the couch cushions below him.

“I don’t get it!” Ryan said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. 

“Y-you don’t have to get it!” Brendon yelled. “Just do it! For me! Please, Ryan, please,” he sobbed. He buried his face in his hands, his whole body shaking. “Just close your eyes, damn it!” he pleaded.

At that moment, in that state, Ryan would have promised Brendon anything.

“Okay Brendon, okay baby I won’t look,” Ryan said in a choked voice. “I promise.”

It took Brendon all of two seconds to begins taking his clothes off, tearing off his tee shirt as fast as his shaking hands would let him. Ryan was a little horrified by the fervent desperation, but he knew he should have been used to it. 

Whenever Ryan had imagined sex with Brendon in the past, he’d never imagined it would make him feel sick. He never imagined it would be so terrifyingly desperate. He never imagined it would be something he dreaded.

Ryan had to help Brendon with the button on his jeans. His hands were shaking too badly to even try to open it. He rubbed away the tears on his cheeks, but they continued to eagerly flow out of him. 

“Now you,” Brendon said as soon as he was down to his boxers. He licked his lips with a dry tongue, and Ryan tried to shut out everything telling him how awful this was. He tried to ignore Brendon’s weeping and undressed himself as quickly as he could, for Brendon’s sake. With each new inch of naked skin, Brendon’s eyes seemed to glaze over more. 

Brendon laid down on the couch, about to put his hand in his waistband when he stopped and looked up at Ryan.

“Close your eyes,” he said firmly, and Ryan obeyed. 

“I need to...prep myself,” Brendon said in a tremulous voice, swiping away tears still running down his face. “T-touch yourself.”

Ryan didn’t want to, but he needed to, for Brendon, so he pushed his boxers down and unsteadily stepped out of them. It was harder to balance with his eyes closed, but he kept them clamped shut. Wrapping his hand around his cock didn’t even feel good, it just made a sick feeling spread up into his belly. 

Ryan was having trouble getting hard with the pitiful sounds of Brendon crying being his only stimulus. He bit down on his lip and tried to think of something else, anything else. 

He pictured Brendon last time, satisfied and smiling and sweet, but the horrifying sobbing penetrated his fantasy, seeping out of the speakers of the TV set. Ryan tried to mute it by kissing his fantasy Brendon over and over. 

“I’m ready,” Brendon said, voice wavering pathetically. 

Ryan had to open his eyes for just a moment, just long enough to get where Brendon needed him to be. Even in that short time, Ryan saw enough to know one reason why Brendon had insisted he keep his eyes closed.

Brendon was a mess. He looked completely destroyed. His eyes were pink from crying, a mixture of snot, tears, and drool collecting on his face. His lips were chapped and bitten raw. There were shallow scratches all up and down his arms from where he had nervously torn at the skin. His dick was an angry red, so hard it stood up off his belly. Brendon must have brought lube with him, because Ryan could see a slick trail all over his thighs where he had fumbled about while trying to finger himself with shaking hands. It made perfect sense to Ryan that Brendon wouldn’t want to be seen as ruined as he was.

However, Brendon had a second reason that Ryan didn’t know: he was terrified to look Ryan in the eyes. He was terrified to look Ryan in the eyes because he was afraid he would really have to face that he was probably in love with Ryan. Brendon was too devastated to try to wrestle with that idea.

Ryan grabbed Brendon’s knees, held them out of the way, and clenched his eyes back shut as he pushed into Brendon, gritting his teeth. Brendon made a pained noise but didn’t ask Ryan to stop. 

Ryan’s hands fell to the sides of Brendon’s body to stabilize himself as he started moving. Brendon’s legs instinctively grabbed around Ryan’s waist. Only the desire to make Brendon feel better drove him to continue. He moved his hips quick and hard, but it didn’t feel good. 

Brendon’s quiet weeping was making Ryan want to cry too. Acting on blind emotion, he reached for Brendon’s cheek and clumsily tried to wipe his tears away. 

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay,” he mumbled, trying his best to be comforting. His encouragement only made Brendon cry harder, a horrible wail tearing out of him. 

“Please, just focus on f-fucking me,” Brendon begged. “I need you to...”

Ryan wanted it to be over almost as badly as Brendon clearly did. He thrust into Brendon faster and tried to focus on the sensation so he could just cum and be done, but he kept awkwardly trying to clean the tears off Brendon’s face. His fingers brushed over Brendon’s eyelid, revealing that he had his eyes clamped tightly shut. 

Ryan let his body move on its own as best as he could and tried to lose himself. Slowly, he felt his consciousness begin reduced to the tightness around his cock and the wetness under his hand. 

“I-I-” he heard himself mumble. It was like hearing another person’s voice rather than his own, strangely distant. “God.”

“God,” Brendon agreed, his voice weak. “God, we’re fucked.”

Ryan nodded, even though he knew Brendon wouldn’t see. 

Ryan’s legs quivered as he came inside Brendon. He was a little caught off guard by his own orgasm, his weight falling heavily onto the arm he was using to support himself. 

He could feel Brendon jerk underneath him, like every muscle in his body cramped up all at once. His legs constricted around Ryan, forcing Ryan to stay pressed closed to him, and he whimpered feebly as he came. 

When Brendon’s legs went limp, Ryan pulled out and immediately collapsed down onto Brendon, burying his face in Brendon’s neck and hugging him tightly. He was crying, hot wet tears running down onto Brendon’s skin. 

“Ryan, Ryan,” Brendon blubbered. “Get up...p-please get up, get up!”

“Please stay,” Ryan said weakly. 

“I-I want to leave!” Brendon cried. “Ryan!”

“Brendon.”

Hearing his own name paralyzed Brendon, and he went rigid. 

“Please. I...I just want to t-take care of you. Anything you need. I-I want you to feel safe. I want you to feel comfortable,” Ryan breathed. “Please Brendon.”

Ryan kissed Brendon’s collarbone, a delicate kiss that made Brendon overly aware of the softness of Ryan’s lips. 

“You’re breaking my heart with your c-crying,” Ryan muttered against his skin. “Come on baby. I-I got you.”

His hand began to rub slow, soothing circles against Brendon’s tense side. He raised his other hand back up wipe away Brendon’s tears. He left a path of his own tears on Brendon’s chest as he pressed light kisses across his collarbone. 

The weight of Ryan’s body on him was strangely comforting to Brendon, and he began to stroke Ryan’s hair feebly. Ryan’s crying was completely silent. Brendon could only feel the tears dripping onto his chest. 

He was starting to get a grip on his breathing, and the stream of tears which had previously seemed endless was starting to slow. 

“Are your eyes open now?” Brendon asked, voice still shaky.

“Yeah,” Ryan said. 

Brendon opened his eyes too. The sight of Ryan crying threatened to tear him apart. 

“Ryan, don’t cry,” Brendon pleaded, his voice cracking. “We’re okay,” he tried to convince him. 

“We’re fucked,” Ryan answered. 

Brendon bit his lip but didn’t disagree. 

They stayed still and silent for a while. Time went by the wayside as they listened to each other breath, each feeling more relieved the more even the other’s breathing became. At some point, they both stopped crying, the tears drying and some of the pink puffiness leaving their eyes.

“Let’s take a bath,” Ryan said. His voice was faint, but it still surprised Brendon as it broke the silence. 

“A bath?”

“We’ve been crying and sweating. We could probably use some water to drink too,” Ryan said plainly. Brendon found himself agreeing.

Ryan peeled himself off Brendon, wobbling a bit but offering Brendon his hand nevertheless. The journey into the kitchen to get water was hazy, and Brendon gradually felt himself coming back to his body when he was about halfway through his glass of water.

He and Ryan stood in silence, watching each other warily as they drank. It felt good to get water back in his system. It got rid of some of the drained feeling. It made him feel a little bit more functional. 

“I feel awful,” Ryan admitted as he grabbed Brendon’s hand and guided him to the bathroom. 

“It’s alright,” Brendon tried to reassure him. “It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ryan said as he turned the faucet of the tub on. “It’s the fucking succubus.”

“Well, it’s my fault for avoiding you. Letting it get so bad,” Brendon replied, biting his lip. Ryan squeezed his hand. 

“Y-you said I scared you,” Ryan said, his voice hollow. 

“No,” Brendon shook his head, “I said I was scared.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, leaning close to Brendon to kiss his shoulder. “I’m so damn sorry.”

Brendon wanted to tell Ryan to quit apologizing for things that weren’t his fault, but he knew how Ryan would react. Instead, he turned and kissed Ryan on the mouth, just a gentle, sweet kiss. 

When he pulled back, Ryan was blushing and smiling a little. 

They curled in on each other in the tub, even though there was plenty of room to put space between their bodies. The skin to skin contact was reassuring. It was real. 

Silent in the water, they tried to find some semblance of normal.


	14. Incoming Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan overhears Brendon's conversation.

Brendon’s voice roused Ryan from a deep sleep. 

“Hey Spencer.”

Ryan was still half asleep, and hearing Spencer’s name left him confused. He rolled over groggily and found that Brendon wasn’t in bed with him either. 

“I know. It’s late,” Brendon said. “Sorry.”

It dawned on Ryan then what was going on: Brendon was on the phone. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he could see Brendon standing near the door of his bedroom with his phone held to his ear. A combination of tiredness and curiosity made Ryan go still in the bed. 

“No I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m um, I’m at Ryan’s.”

Ryan could see him shifting uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” Brendon said softly. 

Ryan froze up when he saw Brendon turn around and look right at him. In the moment before he closed his eyes, he could see Brendon smiling at him.

“He’s sleeping.”

Ryan felt his heart speed up. He tried to keep breathing slowly to maintain the illusion that he _was_ actually sleeping. 

“Spence, can I tell you something?”

Ryan couldn’t help clenching his fingers into the sheets at Brendon’s words, but before he had time to consider any real feelings of guilt Brendon was talking again.

“Ryan...he...he’s doing a lot for me. It means a lot to me, Spencer, that he’s willing to help me when it means...letting me feed when he doesn’t want to. This...this is all so crazy and yet you’re both still supporting me. You mean so much to me. He means so much to me.”

Brendon went quiet, giving Ryan a moment to process what he had said. Ryan felt...important with that new information, but his chest felt tight when he heard Brendon’s strained tone. With every passing day Ryan found himself growing more and more empathetic to Brendon’s pain.   
There was something genuine and raw about the way Brendon had stepped around actually admitting he cared about him that Ryan could appreciate. 

“Yeah. I’m going to sleep, I promise. Thanks for listening to me. Night Spence,” Brendon said. 

Ryan flinched a little when he felt the bed dip as Brendon got back on it. Brendon wasn’t touching him, laying distinctly on his own side of the bed. 

Ryan felt loved, and he felt guilty. 

Brendon’s words, even as simple as they were, really had found their way straight to his heart. 

Listening in was making him feel guilty though, naturally. Brendon hadn’t meant for him to know, and now he knew Brendon’s emotions while his own were still unaccessible to Brendon. While that benefitted him, it felt unfair. 

Ryan’s sleepily decided to share some emotion with Brendon in as secret a way as he could. Still feigning sleep, he rolled over into Brendon’s space, pressing his body up against Brendon’s back. He felt Brendon tense up at the initial touch but slowly relax into it. When it felt alright, he sleepily draped his arm over Brendon. 

Ryan swore Brendon leaned back into him. 

Brendon swore Ryan pulled him in closer.


	15. Constant Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan should really see a professional about his budding depression.

Ryan had spread himself out as much as possible in his bed, his white sheets tangled around his legs and hands, grappling fruitlessly for human touch.

He wasn’t crying anymore, but there were tear stains on his cheeks. 

His head was throbbing and felt like it was full of thick tufts of wool.

He was thinking about the smell of Brendon on the sheets around him, the smell of cheap cologne and sweat and purity. Ryan thought Brendon might be the only person in the world who could remain pure even while his body was inhabited by a physical manifestation of evil and lust. The way Brendon had praised him the night before was so honestly and heartbreakingly pure. 

The guilt from overhearing Brendon was burrowing under his skin, but at the same time, something about Brendon’s innocence and softness, his vulnerability, was giving Ryan new faith in humanity. It was so human and so beautiful to be emotionally vulnerable. Ryan was always trying to make a conscious effort to let himself be open about his feelings, but it was harder when it came to Brendon. He had no trouble admitting when he was sad or angry, but he envied even Brendon’s meager ability to express love. 

Ryan wasn’t entirely sure it was love, at least in the traditional romantic sense, but he decided to call it that because the mere thought of ‘Brendon’s love’ made him dizzy. 

The night before had dismantled Ryan and left him feeling emotionally hungover. He had never been more terrified for Brendon. He thought he had never felt more sympathetic pain for another person in his whole life. 

The comparison between the second time they had sex and the previous night was enough to obliterate Ryan. He could feel a hot tear roll down his cheek at the thought of that second time. He considered that experience an almost sacred level of perfection, and he hoped to god that Brendon’s thoughts mirrored his. Ryan wished he could repeat that night a thousand times. He wished Brendon wished _he_ could repeat that night a thousand times. 

It was all just a bitter reminder that one perfect night wasn’t enough. Hell, it wasn’t worth anything, if the previous encounter was anything to go by. It was obsolete. 

Ryan began sobbing again as that thought ran circles in his brain. 

It was obsolete. It was nothing. It was worth nothing. Nothing had changed. Brendon had still been shaking and sobbing and brutalized the third time around.


	16. Muffled Screaming From Your Neighbor's Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys are very lucky. They are very lucky no one calls the police.

Brendon slumped onto his sofa, and his phone buzzed.

Message from Spence at 6:45 p.m.  
Brendon!

The next message came in only seconds later, surprising Brendon with its suddenness.

Message from Spence at 6:45 p.m.  
Dude I ahve fantastic news!

Message from Spence at 6:45 p.m.  
*have

Brendon’s eyebrows raised as he typed a reply.

Message to Spence at 6:45 p.m.  
wat is it?

Brendon tapped his feet on the floor as he waited for Spencer’s reply. He was anxious for good news, especially from Spencer, since he knew very well this was probably about the succubus. 

His phone buzzed again and he looked down quickly. 

Message from Spence at 6:46 p.m.  
I found a succubus exorcism.

Brendon couldn’t contain his cry of pure joy. No other good news in his life could even hold a candle to the knowledge that he was finally going to get the demon out of his body, the demon that had controlled his life, driven him to do things he could barely rationalize. He felt so relieved that he was surprised he didn’t burst into tears right there on the couch. Instead, he sent a reply to Spencer as fast as he could with his hands shaking with excitement.

Message to Spence at 6:47 p.m.  
holy fuck holy fuck can you do it now you can come over ifg you want bring whatevr you need

He tossed his phone into his lap with a happy squeal, grabbing his face in his hands. 

“Oh my god!” he yelled into his empty apartment. “Thank god! Fuck!”

His phone vibrated in his lap, and he opened the text eagerly. His smile dropped as he read it. 

Message from Spence at 6:47 p.m.  
I think it would be good if Ryan came for emotional support. Is that okay?

Brendon was confused as to why he would need support. He knew Ryan would be perfectly supportive even despite the strain put on their relationship by the succubus, but the idea of needing Ryan’s support struck fear into him. He chewed his lip nervously as he answered the text.

Message to Spence at 6:48 p.m.  
why

Brendon nervously bit the nails on his free hand as he held his phone up and stared at it, waiting for Spencer’s reply. 

Message from Spence at 6:48 p.m.  
It will be tough, Brendon. It’s going to be very hard on you and me, emotionally speaking. I think it would be good to have Ryan there, but it’s your choice.

Brendon thought it over a minute. It sounded to him like Spencer was gravely serious about how difficult it was going to be on them, and that scared him. If the exorcism was going to leave him and Spencer both in a horrible condition, he knew they would _need_ a third person, and he realized he was okay with it being Ryan. 

With that in mind, he sent Spencer his answer.

Message to Spence at 6:49 p.m.  
ok i think i want ry to come

He considered for a second and sent another text.

Message to Spence at 6:49 p.m.  
your description is making me pretty nervous about ths but i wnt to do it i want this shit out of me

Brendon was hoping he might get a reply from Spencer that alleviated his fears, something reassuring, but when he got another text his stomach dropped sickly.

Message from Spence at 6:50 p.m.  
Ryan says he will come.

There was no comforting, no explanation. It was remarkably curt, especially coming from Spencer. If Spencer could make no attempt to reassure him, Brendon knew it was bad. He didn’t want to say it was hopeless, but it felt very close to that.

Brendon sank into the sofa with a long sigh. He was getting very tired of being constantly on edge. He had already bitten his nails to stubs. Brendon knew that stress was bad for him, especially to the level that he was experiencing it. He couldn’t think of the last time it didn’t feel like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest. 

Everything set him off too. When he had heard someone walk by his apartment earlier that day, he had spent a full minute cowering in the corner for no discernible reason. He was well and truly paranoid. 

Brendon found it hard to think about much except the succubus and Ryan. He’d called in sick from work. Without the schedule of eating actual meals, Brendon’s day had become blurry and disorganized. He didn’t mind too much but it was inconvenient. It was hard to tell what time of day it was, not helped by the fact that he had been keeping all the shades closed in his apartment. 

That was probably a sign of his declining health. Healthy people didn’t just sit in their darkened apartments all day. 

Brendon was just contemplating getting up to try to open the shades when he heard a knock at the door. It hadn’t taken very long at all for Spencer and Ryan to arrive, he thought. 

Brendon summoned all his energy to get off the couch, smiling weakly as he opened the door. 

Spencer’s arms were loaded with things Brendon didn’t recognize, piles of leafy herbs, colored glass bottles, old food tins, and his grimoire, which looked fuller than previously. He bore a grim expression, smiling with just his mouth and not his eyes. The pen ink on his hands and sleeves reminded Brendon that Spencer had been researching his ass off to help him. There were bags under his eyes. 

“Hi,” Brendon said, losing some of his momentum. “I-I think I’m ready for this.”

Spencer nodded wordlessly, and Brendon stepped back to let his friends in his apartment. When Spencer walked in, Ryan followed him closely, eyes trained on the floor. 

Ryan looked all sorts of emotional, which was not abnormal for him. Brendon could pick up guilt and shame in the way he didn’t make eye contact, nervousness in the way his tugged on the edge of his sleeve, apologetic eagerness in the way he bit his lip, and maybe, some sort of love in the softness in his eyes.

Brendon knew he should be happy, should be overjoyed, but the way Spencer and Ryan were treating him made apprehension grow in him. He tried to swallow it back, but it kept rising up like bile in his throat. 

“We should go to your bedroom.” Spencer interrupted his thoughts. 

“My bedroom?” Brendon asked in a voice that quivered more than he wanted it to. “Damn it,” he whispered to himself under his breath.

“We need space,” Spencer tried to explain. “It’ll be easier if you lay on your bed. And if you’re in your underwear.”

Brendon blushed, smashing one hand into his face. 

“My underwear?” 

His voice cracked. 

“Yeah, I know it’s...not ideal, but you do want this succubus out of you, right?” Spencer asked. 

“More than anything,” Brendon replied automatically. 

“Then let’s go,” Spencer said, jerking his head in the direction of Brendon’s bedroom. 

Brendon sighed, but made his way to his bedroom. Ryan shut the door behind him, and Brendon felt very small and trapped in his own room. He felt like Spencer and Ryan’s eyes were burning him. 

“I...” Brendon tried to speak but he had nothing to say, so he trailed off, twisting his fingers together. 

Brendon still had some shred of dignity, even after everything he’d said to Spencer and everything he’d _done_ to Ryan, and he turned to face the corner of his room. He pulled his shirt off, awkwardly to keep from bumping his elbows on the walls. He almost wanted to glance over his shoulder before he began working his jeans down, but he managed to crush that idea and just take his pants off facing the corner. His face was so warm with blush it felt sunburned. 

When he turned around, there was an undeniable sick feeling in his belly, and he looked away from Ryan and Spencer. Brendon climbed onto his bed as per Spencer’s request, laying on his back with his hands up by his chin, arms covering his chest. Spencer didn’t even look fazed by his nudity, too busy with his own thoughts. Ryan had found his way into one of the other corners of Brendon’s room, looking thoroughly awkward.

Spencer turned to Ryan, and Brendon could hear him whispering something but couldn’t make out what he said. He nearly called out and demanded to know what they were saying, but he found himself sinking back into the bed and accepting it instead. 

Brendon watched in a daze as Spencer and Ryan began covering his floor in stones, candles, and incense. The moment the smoke began rising into the air, he could smell it. It was a sharp, pungent smell that made Brendon’s head spin. He couldn’t identify the scent. He watched the way the glow of the candles cast tall shadows from his furniture up onto the walls and ceiling. They were the type of shadows that would have made him terrified in his childhood. 

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he saw Spencer send Ryan into the bathroom. He sleepily cocked an eyebrow in confusion, but before he could ask, Spencer was approaching the side of the bed. 

“Brendon?” Spencer said, his voice soft. “How’re you feeling?”

“Scared.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Listen,” Spencer said soothingly. “I need to tie you to the bed now.”

“What?” Brendon asked, sounding skeptical and startled. 

“It’s to keep you safe, Bren,” Spencer said. “You can trust me and Ryan, alright? We’re gonna take care of you.”

Brendon inhaled deeply, frowning and balling his hands up into fists by his sides. 

“Come on Brendon,” Spencer said gently. He looked very genuine, and Brendon found himself softening to Spencer’s plea.

“O-okay,” he found himself saying. 

Spencer nodded slightly, patting Brendon’s arm reassuringly. 

Brendon watched numbly as Spencer bound his ankles to the lower corners of his bed. He felt very exposed with his legs spread, and he was grateful he was wearing boxers. With each knot, Brendon felt himself panicking more and more as he was forced to relinquish control of his body.

When both his wrists were tied, the lack of control got to him, and he tensed all his muscles, thrashing against the ropes. 

“Oh god!” he squealed. “Oh my god!”

“Brendon, shhh, it’s okay I’m here. You’re going to be alright,” Spencer soothed, grabbing his chin and forcing him to make eye contact. “Look at me. Calm down.”

Brendon nodded and tried to focus on Spencer and breathe. Spencer nodded along with him, a slower rhythm. 

Brendon jumped a little as the door of his bathroom opened and Ryan walked out, holding a thick pile of gauze and a roll of medical tape in one hand, and a half empty bottle of rubbing alcohol in the other. Brendon’s eyes went wide with fear at the sight.

“Spencer! Spencer that’s-” Brendon yelped. 

“Shh...” Spencer tried to hush him, but Brendon was having none of that. 

“No Spence, that’s for- for injuries! What are you gonna do to me? Are you gonna hurt me? Oh my god oh my god!” Brendon blubbered, tears springing to his eyes. 

“Brendon,” Spencer said softly. “You’re going to be okay,” he said. 

“Oh my god you’re gonna hurt me Spencer Spencer please let me go please!” Brendon yelled, squirming in vain. 

Ryan tossed the supplies he had gathered onto the floor, rushing over to Brendon’s side, his eyebrows knit together in worry. 

“Brendon, hey, listen,” he said. Brendon’s eyes snapped to his. 

“Please Ryan d-don’t hurt me,” Brendon begged. It hurt Ryan so much to hear him say that. He was worried he was going to cry, but he forced himself not to. 

“B-Brendon, it’s okay. I’m here, alright? This i-isn’t going to be nice, but this is...the only way to help you,” Ryan said quietly. 

Brendon felt Spencer rub his arm and looked up to see him biting his lip and nodding solemnly. 

“Oh fuck me!” Brendon said, sobbing dryly. He almost wanted tears to start pouring down his face so maybe Ryan would take pity on him and let him go, but nothing came out. 

“Baby,” Ryan said in a hushed low voice that only Brendon could hear. Hearing it made Brendon twitch a little, warmth spreading from the spot where Ryan’s lips had brushed his ear. 

“I’m here. Spencer and I need to help you, okay? L-let us help you,” Ryan said, pleading. 

Brendon sniffled, but nodded when he looked into Ryan’s sad eyes. 

“Baby,” again, quiet enough for just Brendon to hear, “do you want me to hold your hand? Would that help?”

“Y-yes,” Brendon said, humiliated by how desperate he sounded. Ryan just nodded thoughtfully and laced their fingers together. Brendon squeezed his hand hard, and Ryan gently squeezed his hand back.

“Brendon?” 

Brendon’s attention was drawn by Spencer’s voice on his left. He looked with frightened eyes at the rag in Spencer’s hands, subconsciously squeezing Ryan’s fingers in his own. 

“I need to put this in your mouth so you won’t...scare the neighbors, okay?” Spencer asked. “If you need to stop, spit it out, alright?”

Brendon nodded tensely, and Spencer lifted his head gently to secure the gag in his mouth. It tasted dusty, and Brendon had to hold in a cough. It was rough and foreign on his tongue, but he grit his teeth into it all the same. 

“Look at me, Brendon,” Ryan said. Brendon obeyed, his nervous eyes meeting Ryan’s. “Focus on me,” he heard Ryan say. 

Over the blood pumping in his ears, Brendon heard Spencer begin to chant under his breath. It struck new fear into him, knowing the ritual was actually beginning. Ryan could feel Brendon’s fingers twitch in his grip, and he tried to reassure him by squeezing his hand. 

Brendon couldn’t help that his eyes darted away from Ryan’s face, and he saw Spencer pouring rubbing alcohol onto a fearsome looking knife. He screamed, muffled by the gag, and Ryan winced, crushing Brendon’s hand in his. Spencer’s muttering chant continued as he shook the blade off, and approached the side of the bed again. He looked menacing to Brendon, deadly serious with his blade shining with candlelight. Brendon’s nails dug into Ryan’s knuckles. 

Spencer placed the tip of his knife on Brendon’s chest and went quiet. In eerie silence, he dragged the knife down, leaving a gash in its wake. 

Brendon screeched in pain and writhed violently on the bed. His grip was painfully tight, but Ryan didn’t let go. He could hear Brendon’s muffled pleas for nothing, and watched, stricken with panic, as tears forced themselves out of Brendon’s eyes, running down his temples.

The sight made Ryan feel sick to his stomach. He wanted to vomit, as if it would purge the awfulness out of him. 

It made Spencer want to give up and run away. It was as if the pain was radiating off of Brendon, and he wanted to get as far away from it as possible. 

Brendon was whimpering pitifully when Spencer leaned back in and resumed cutting his chest. He instantly began to sob, his limbs all tugging and straining against his bonds. Ryan covered his mouth with his free hand, forcing himself to maintain eye contact no matter how awful Brendon looked. Brendon was looking up at him like he was the only thing in the world worth looking at, shaking violently. 

With each new cut Spencer made, Brendon screamed around his gag, his body writhing of its own accord. It felt like the moment was on repeat, each new slice into his flesh bringing up the same rivulets of blood, the same shrieks of terror and pain, the same tears spilling down his face. Everyone in the room was begging for the moment to be over, and yet it continued. The moment did not care about the pleas of anyone. 

Ryan’s hand was starting to go numb from how hard Brendon was gripping it, but he tried to squeeze back nevertheless. Brendon’s nose began to run from all his crying. Ryan pulled his hand from his mouth to take a tissue from Brendon’s bedside table and wipe his face. Brendon would have been humiliated that Ryan was babying him, but he was too far gone to care. He wept openly, letting Ryan do whatever he wanted. 

When Spencer drew back, the sigil finished on Brendon’s chest, oozing blood, a terrible smell filled the air. It was sulfuric and brought a dry heat with it as it pushed into the room and filled the space. 

Ryan couldn’t help it; he leaned away from Brendon and gagged as the horrible scent hit him. He regained his composure as fast as he could, tears stinging his eyes. 

He watched in horror as a shaft of darkness broke out of Brendon’s chest, tearing up out of him to form a pillar of dark energy jutting out from the wound. It sent burning pain through Brendon as it emerged, and he screamed hoarsely as it tore out of him. Brendon thought his very soul was on fire. 

“Get the fuck out of him!” 

Spencer’s cry was barely audibly over Brendon’s screams, but just like that, the pillar of energy seemed to shatter like glass, pieces falling onto the bed and ground with a clinking noise. And it was over. 

Spencer sagged down against the bed, the knife dropping onto the covers. Ryan faltered and fell to his knees on his side of the bed, still holding Brendon’s hand. He sounded like he was crying, but there were no tears. They were both completely drained. 

However, Brendon was worse than either of them. He was sobbing, and his breath was coming out quickly and unevenly. He was hyperventilating, open mouthed around the gag. Ryan propped himself up and tugged the rag out of Brendon’s mouth. 

“Please please god please,” Brendon pleaded dryly. “Oh my god please Ryan please shit I-I-” 

He swallowed thickly, still breathing faster than necessary. His lungs burned with the effort. More snot had dripped out of his nose, and Ryan grabbed another tissue with a shaking hand and tried to wipe him clean, too gently to do much. Ryan’s eyes were wet, as if he might start crying at any moment too. It broke his heart to see Brendon suffering. 

“Please,” Brendon whispered hoarsely. 

Spencer managed to pull himself upright, moving to untie Brendon’s ankles from the bed. His hands were clumsy, and it was taking a long time. 

“I’ve got to get the alcohol and clean your chest,” Ryan said, his voice wavering as he stood up slowly, “so I need to let go of your hand for just a minute, okay Brendon?”

His own name was ringing in his ears, but Brendon nodded. Ryan struggled to uncap the rubbing alcohol, and once he got it, he dribbled some over the sigil on Brendon’s skin. 

The alcohol burned him terribly, and Brendon grit his teeth and writhed in pain as the clear alcohol diluted his blood to run in pink streams down into the sheets. 

“I’m so sorry,” Ryan whispered to him. “So sorry, baby.” He leaned in and kissed Brendon’s forehead softly. Brendon whined quietly, trying to grab him but failing due to the rope on his wrists. 

As Ryan taped a square of gauze onto Brendon’s chest, Spencer finished untying his legs and moved up to his wrists. He kicked his legs out, trying to straighten out the tight cramps in them. 

“I’m sorry I had to hurt you,” Spencer murmured. 

Spencer undid his wrists much faster, and once he was free, Brendon fell onto his side facing Ryan and curled into the fetal position. 

“T-take care of him, okay?” Spencer asked, eyeing Ryan. “I need to clean the residual energy out of the room.” 

Ryan nodded seriously before looking down at Brendon with a soft expression. Spencer dropped to the floor, beginning to pick up his supplies. Ryan all but collapsed as he sat down on the bed near Brendon’s feet. 

Tentatively, he reached out and rubbed Brendon’s back. He could feel him shaking with each breath. 

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s over now, it’s over. I’m here.”

He moved his hand to run it through Brendon’s hair hesitantly, and Brendon’s sobs wavered a bit. 

“It’s alright baby,” Ryan whispered, dragging his hand back down to rub circles on Brendon’s back. Brendon leaned into his touch, his skin warm and sweaty. Ryan wiped his eyes with his free hand, smiling sadly at Brendon. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“No,” Brendon said, voice low and honest. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” Ryan murmured, pressing his fingers against Brendon’s spine. 

They sat in silence, listening to Spencer shuffling around on the floor, and Brendon’s breathing slowed as Ryan rubbed his back gently. Ryan wanted so badly for Brendon to feel better because his sadness felt contagious. It was wrapping itself around Ryan, strangling him. 

“How’re you feeling, Bren?” Spencer said from the floor, his voice husky.

“Shitty,” Brendon said, cracking a smile and glancing up at Ryan. “I feel awful and really tired, but...clean.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan repeated for what felt like the ninetieth time of the day.

“What do you need?” Spencer asked, sitting up on his knees to peek at Brendon and Ryan. “What do you need to feel better?”

“Can I have a glass of water, please?” Brendon asked quietly. 

“Of course,” Spencer said eagerly. He hurried up off the floor into the kitchen. 

Ryan turned around and scooped his arm under Brendon’s neck. 

“Come on baby, sit up,” Ryan said, his voice no longer hushed now that he and Brendon were alone. 

Brendon let Ryan help him upright, feeling safe in Ryan’s arms. He swayed slightly once Ryan had propped him up, and Ryan brushed his hair out of his eyes for him with a soft smile. 

Spencer returned a few moments later and pressed a short glass of water into Brendon’s hand. 

“Thanks,” Brendon said, forcing a smile for Spencer. He took a slow sip of the water, and Ryan rubbed his hand over Brendon’s back. 

“I’m really sorry Brendon,” Spencer said, looking down at the floor. “I wish there had been some other way.”

“It’s okay,” Brendon said, drawing the glass away from his face. “I know.”

Spencer nodded solemnly. 

Ryan continued to try to soothe Brendon as he drank, rubbing the tenseness out of his back and squeezing Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon was taking little sips of water, as if he was afraid of drowning. 

Spencer watched them, looking distant. 

After a minute, Brendon set the glass down and leaned towards Ryan, his head dropping onto Ryan’s shoulder, his breath warm on Ryan’s neck. 

“I’m tired,” he said, his voice strained. 

“Yeah?” Ryan said. 

“I should get some sleep,” Brendon continued. 

“You should,” Spencer agreed. “You must be completely worn out. If it’s okay with you Brendon, I think I’ll head home myself. I should record all this stuff, and I need some rest too.”

“That’s fine with me,” Brendon said quietly. “I’m sure you’re tired.”

“If anything happens, _anything_ , call me,” Spencer said

“Thank you,” Brendon said, biting his lip. 

“I hope you feel better soon,” Spencer said, making his way to the door with a wry smile. 

Ryan waved weakly at him.

Ryan and Brendon sat in silence until they heard the door close behind Spencer. 

“D-do you want me to leave?” Ryan asked. 

“No please...” Brendon said, reaching out for Ryan’s face awkwardly. “Please stay?” Brendon asked meekly. 

“Yeah baby, yeah,” Ryan soothed, rubbing Brendon’s shoulder. 

Brendon started crying again, just silent tears falling onto Ryan. 

Ryan was reminded of his new reality: with the succubus out of Brendon’s body, Brendon would have no need for sex with him. Ryan almost wanted to bring it up, but one glance at how broken up Brendon was stopped that idea immediately. 

Instead, he said, “let’s lay down, okay? You can try to get to sleep. I’ll...keep you safe.”

“Okay,” Brendon said quietly. “Okay.”

Ryan helped Brendon under the sheet on his bed before kicking his shoes off and laying down next to him. 

“I...Ryan?” Brendon asked in a tearful voice. Ryan’s breath caught in his throat.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe this is stupid, but, will you...hold me?” Brendon asked, sniffling. 

“Of course I will. It’s not stupid,” Ryan said sincerely, rolling over so his chest was pressed to Brendon’s bare back. “I got you,” he said.

He wrapped his arms around Brendon, careful to avoid the fresh cuts on his chest. He wanted to kiss Brendon’s neck, but kissing him there felt like a boundary he wasn’t meant to cross. Instead, he clumsily reached up to wipe Brendon’s tears. Brendon smiled. The feeling of Ryan’s long fingers brushing tears off his cheeks was becoming too familiar. 

Ryan laid still, listening for Brendon’s breathing to even out to show that he had fallen asleep. 

After ten minutes passed and Brendon was still awake, Ryan whispered, “it’s okay, Brendon. You’re safe. I promise.”

“Promise?” Brendon asked. “I’m scared.”

 

“I promise.” Ryan wanted to add that he was scared too, he was terrified. The images of Brendon writhing in pain were burned into his brain. He felt like he would never sleep for as long as he could remember that pain Brendon was in. He couldn’t even imagine how Brendon felt. 

Eventually, Ryan heard Brendon’s breathing slow, and he pried himself away to roll to his own side of the bed. Despite the space between him and Brendon, Ryan still couldn’t fall asleep.


	17. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brendon and Ryan have something that resembles a parallel universe version of "the morning after".

Brendon woke up to a painful soreness in his chest and the smell of Ryan cooking pancakes in his kitchen. 

He had been looking forward to waking up and seeing Ryan in his bed. It would have been nice. But Ryan, in trying to be helpful, had unwittingly taken that away from him. 

Brendon forced himself to get out of bed, moving slowly and gingerly. 

When Ryan saw him enter the kitchen, he turned and smiled at him, just a little.

“Good morning,” Ryan said. “I, um, thought I’d be helpful. You can go back to bed, I’ll bring you breakfast in a minute, and I need to redress your wound.”

He wasn’t being patronizing, but Brendon felt slightly irritated by how much Ryan seemed worried about him. 

“I’m fine, Ryan. I’m not a child. I can take care of myself,” he said, scowling. 

Despite what he said, he still felt weak, and he swayed a little where he stood. 

“Sit down at least!” Ryan said, a nervous look flashing across his face. 

Brendon let himself drop onto the couch, and that seemed to satisfy Ryan. 

There was a slow moment of silence before Ryan spoke again.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked quietly.

“A bit out of sorts,” Brendon said honestly. 

Ryan pulled a sympathetic face, nodding. He paused to think before he continued, hesitant.

“Last night...was...hard to watch, Brendon,” he said, biting his lip. “Seeing you in that state...was horrifying. I- it hurt me to, you know, see you hurting...because I...care about you.”

Brendon hung his head a little. 

“I was probably more horrifying when I was hungry,” he said, laughing a dry, humorless laugh. 

Ryan cringed. He wanted to protest but the last pancake was ready.

He meticulously portioned the six pancakes into two plates of three pancakes, drizzling the stacks with spirals of sticky syrup.

Brendon smiled up at him when Ryan handed him one of the plates. Ryan took a seat next to him on the soft sofa.

Brendon all but moaned when he put the first bite in his mouth. He looked happier than the situation called for. It made Ryan smile as he started eating too. 

“I want to make you happy, even if it’s something simple like pancakes,” Ryan blurted out. He was blushing a little.

“They’re good,” Brendon replied. “It feels great to be...actually eating again.”

Even small accomplishments felt disproportionately wonderful, and just seeing Brendon happily eating was making Ryan feel fantastic. Brendon was being kind of messy; Ryan thought he could see syrup on his cheeks and nose. It was endearing.

As Ryan finished his second pancake, he remembered that the exorcism didn’t just mean an end to all their problems. It meant Brendon would be happily eating food on the couch, but it also meant Brendon wouldn’t be coming over to his house for dinner, romance, and companionship. Ryan felt horrible for knowing he would miss that. He wouldn’t miss Brendon’s fervent, terrifying desperation, but he would miss the kissing and the innocent awkwardness and the lingering touches on each other’s hands and faces. 

He bit his tongue, his appetite lost. 

“Do you want my last pancake?” he asked, frowning down at it. 

Brendon nodded eagerly, not even noticing Ryan’s change in demeanor. Ryan placed his plate on top of Brendon’s and watched as Brendon smiled and started eating again. 

“Ryan?” Brendon said after a moment. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Brendon said, looking down at the floor. “I know I was acting all tough, like I didn’t want you to take care of me but, thank you.”

He looked a little sad and distant, and it confused Ryan.

“Yeah Brendon,” he said softly. “Of course. It’s the least I could do after...last night.” 

He didn’t elaborate further on last night. It felt counterproductive, at least for the time being. When Brendon was more stable, Ryan knew they would have to talk about it. Brendon was the talkative sort, and it helped him de-stress to talk about his problems, but it would only hurt to bring it up so soon. 

Ryan watched silently as Brendon finished eating, and once he was done, Ryan gathered up the plates and walked into the kitchen to rinse the syrup off. For a long minute, Brendon just watched as Ryan washed the dishes, both quiet and absorbed in their own thoughts.

“Let’s go to the bedroom so I can deal with your wound,” Ryan said as he set the dishes in the drying rack. 

“Right,” Brendon said, frowning down at the gauze on his chest. Ryan approached him on the sofa; Brendon looked nervous. 

“Let me help you up,” Ryan said, and Brendon sighed but let Ryan help him upright and wrap an arm around his waist for support. He felt alright enough to walk, but he let himself rest on Ryan, grateful for the emotional support his physical support was providing. He let Ryan walk him into the bedroom and help him sit down on the bed.

“This shouldn’t hurt, but if it does, tell me to stop,” Ryan said, peeling the edges of the medical tape off Brendon’s chest. It tugged on his skin, still resiliently sticky, but it didn’t hurt. 

When Ryan eased the bandage off his chest, Brendon felt exposed. He felt more than naked. He felt as if Ryan could look into his body, into his soul through the cuts in his skin. 

Brendon hadn’t gotten a good look at the wound.

Ryan felt distinctly offput by the pattern carved onto Brendon’s chest, still raw and red and painful looking. It seemed to emanate warning energy, as if it held the memories of everything Brendon had endured.

Ryan taped a new sheet of gauze over the wound, gentle and careful. Once it was covered, Ryan felt better and Brendon did too. The exposure was blissfully gone again. 

“Thank you,” Brendon said, smiling at him softly. Ryan met his gaze and smiled back. Brendon’s vulnerability seemed to seep over to him as well. 

“It’s not a problem,” Ryan told him. “Really, none of this is. I want to make your life easier.”

Brendon nodded knowingly. 

“But, I have to go home now,” Ryan said solemnly. “My dog...” He looked disappointed. 

“It’s alright, Ryan,” Brendon said. “Go home for a while.”

“Call me. If you need me,” Ryan said. 

When the word ‘need’ was said, they both felt all the air go dry. Brendon had needed to feed from Ryan, but they knew that need was gone. Need wasn’t keeping them together anymore, the only thing keeping them together was their own desires.

Brendon didn’t stop Ryan from leaving the apartment.


	18. Crazy Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Spencer gets some post-exorcism notes in his grimoire. Gotta do good research, right?

“You need to talk about it?” Spencer asked knowingly. 

“Um, yes,” Brendon said, sitting gingerly onto his couch next to Spencer. There was something heavy in the atmosphere of the room.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, and you know that,” Spencer said.

“I know,” Brendon replied with a soft smile. “If you’re worried that I’m mad at you, well, I’m not.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“Spence, if I was mad at you, I wouldn’t have come to you to vent.”

“Right, right,” Spencer said. “How’re you doing then?”

Brendon let out a long shuddery breath as he recalled the exorcism.

“I’ve been having nightmares about it,” he said. “About demons. About the exorcism having failed, and all of us doing it over again.”

“We won’t have to do it again, Brendon. You’re safe now,” Spencer reassured him. 

“It’s a terrifying thought, isn’t it?” 

“It is, but it’s only a dream. It’s not real, and you know that.”

“It feels real in the moment,” Brendon remarked, recalling the way the nightmares would make him wake up sweaty and shaking. 

“I know,” Spencer agreed. “How’s your chest healing?” he asked.

Brendon glanced at his chest, frowning slightly.

“I think it’s doing fine. It might scar though. Do you think it’ll scar?”

Spencer shrugged. “Maybe for a little bit, but it wasn’t that deep so I doubt it’ll be scarred forever.”

“That’s...good actually. I...think it would probably just end up being a reminder of a lot of pain,” Brendon said solemnly. 

“One day it won’t hurt so much.” Spencer put his hand on Brendon’s knee reassuringly. 

Brendon nodded, but he didn’t look entirely convinced. With everything so fresh in his mind, it was hard to picture a time when things would be alright. 

“Brendon?” Spencer narrowed his eyes. “You’re not...blaming yourself for this are you?”

Brendon was quiet for a moment before he answered. 

“It’s my fault in a way, isn’t it? It was my text that distracted you,” he burst out. 

“Brendon, you can’t blame yourself for what happened. No one is at fault here, not you, not me, not even the succubus,” Spencer said evenly. He turned to make eye contact with Brendon. 

“Tell me it’s not your fault,” Spencer said.

“It’s...it’s not my fault.” Brendon spoke quietly and didn’t meet Spencer’s eyes. 

“Like you mean it.”

“It’s not my fault,” Brendon repeated. He sighed. 

“Okay, good.” Spencer smiled at Brendon. 

Brendon took in a shaky breath.

“I’m glad you brought Ryan.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Brendon said. “This was all a big mess but, he made it better...he made it almost worth it...” He trailed off awkwardly. 

“Wait what?” Spencer asked, suddenly invigorated by what he had heard. He grinned. “Hold up.”

Brendon looked seriously embarrassed and he started to sputter.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking but you’re not right!” he protested. “It’s not- it’s not Ryan- I do like Ryan, Ryan’s my best friend it-”

Spencer was giggling almost accusingly, and if it was coming from anyone except Spencer, Brendon would be furious. 

“Look, it’s was just- it was good to- to have his support,” Brendon stuttered out. “You know? That’s it, that’s what I was trying to say!”

“Sure, sure,” Spencer said skeptically, laughing. “Look, that’s nice and all, but don’t you think you should probably tell _Ryan_ all that?”

Brendon was blushing, but he couldn’t help but be egged on by Spencer’s suggestion. Spencer knew exactly how to get what he wanted out of Brendon.

“Maybe I will!” he said, as excited as if the idea was his own. “I will!” he said. “Fuck you Spencer, I will!”

Spencer’s laugh seemed to melt Brendon’s overconfident facade, and he started to giggle too. 

“I get it though,” Brendon said. “I’ll talk to him. I will.”

“Okay. Good, Brendon. Good.” Spencer smiled at Brendon, and Brendon easily returned the smile.


	19. With Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it resolves itself.

Ryan was actually mad at himself for being so nervous over something as simple as sending a text. He’d rewritten it a few times, trying to get the right tone and message. 

He needed to send it. He needed to see Brendon. He knew that, but there was nothing he could do to stop the way his hands shook.

It felt potentially catastrophic. 

Message to Brendon at 11:42 a.m.  
hey i hope you’ve been recovering well. if you’re feeling up to it, i think it’d be nice to go to lunch today. meet me at 3rd and 40th at noon?

Brendon stared at the message on his phone. Being presented with an opportunity to actually talk to Ryan, he wasn’t sure he was ready. He sighed. 

Message to Ryro at 11:44 a.m.  
that sounds good ry ill see u there.

Ryan, upon receiving Brendon’s text, began his walk. The air was cool, but not unpleasantly so, and the sidewalks were well populated, much to Ryan’s disappointment. He had been hoping for some solitude. Instead, he was forced to weave between strangers’ bodies, tensing up whenever he had the unfortunate fate of brushing up against someone. Each new touch made cracks in his calm façade.

Thankfully, when Ryan made it to the corner of third and fortieth, Brendon was there.

“Brendon,” Ryan said, his voice as even as he could make it. He couldn’t look Brendon in the eyes, instead looking at his shoes. He felt as if his chest was growing tighter with each rapid beat of his heart, his lungs burning. 

Brendon turned to him, smiling slowly. He couldn’t help himself; just the sight of Ryan, even nervous and mussed up, made him immeasurably happy. 

“Ryan,” Brendon said softly, fondly. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The anxiety from being in public didn’t go away for Ryan until he and Brendon were seated on the terrace of a cafe. Ryan still felt like he was about to implode, no longer because there were many sets of eyes on him but because of just one set of eyes: Brendon’s.

“I had this idea that one good thing came of, you know, everything that happened,” Brendon said, trying his best to sound casual despite feeling incredibly on edge. 

“Uh, what’s that?” Ryan asked, caught off guard.

“You,” Brendon said. 

Ryan could feel his heart racing, working overtime to force blood up into his face until he was blushing bright pink. His mouth was dry and empty of words, and yet he had so much to say. He’d thought about what he wanted to say but stupidly had not considered Brendon saying anything like that, big enough to throw him off. 

Brendon thought Ryan looked cute with his cheeks all red. It was a relief, seeing Ryan react in an uncontrollable and undeniably human way. Sometimes Brendon worried, because Ryan maintained his composure so much better than he did, especially in emotionally loaded situations like the one at hand. In fact, Brendon’s lack of composure was starting to hit him as he tried to speak. 

“Uh, what I mean is, um, uh-”

“Unless you can say otherwise, I think it would be impossible for this not to change us, but I think it may be...a good thing,” Ryan said, his voice and eyes lowered. He felt like he was admitting so much. 

Brendon pressed his lips together into a hard line. 

“I don’t disagree,” he said bluntly. 

It was becoming increasingly obvious to both Brendon and Ryan what the other was thinking and what was going on as a whole. 

“Brendon.”

Brendon could almost _feel_ his name in the air, heavy and sweet like lead. 

“I liked you before all this. I know you may not believe me because I couldn’t show it for the life of me,” Ryan said, “but it’s true. I promise this is genuine, it’s not just uh, a product of the times. I...I’m worried whatever you’re feeling is just a...side effect of being shown sympathy when you needed it.”

Brendon chewed his lip, his thoughts racing. Before he could collect them, he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Um, I think all this was kind of a catalyst for me realizing how much I feel about you. You- you- you took care of me so readily. I knew there was...something before. I went to you on purpose, Ryan, you know that. I wouldn’t say I wasn’t afraid of what would happen with you, but I was less afraid. You make me less afraid,” he admitted. 

Brendon paused as if saying so much was exhausting. 

“There was something there before but I think all this...succubus stuff really made it come together clearly for me. Does that ruin it?” he asked. 

“No,” Ryan said. Ryan knew he and Brendon were experiencing things differently, but they understood each other. 

“Brendon, if your feelings change, and you realize they were just...a consequence of everything, if you ever _do_ feel coerced, you can back out at any time,” Ryan assured Brendon. 

Brendon nodded slowly. 

“If anything, I feel like _I_ coerced _you_...into sex.” 

He swallowed hard. 

“And,” he continued with more energy, “I feel _so_ guilty about it, Ryan. Really, I- it eats away at me whenever I think about it because I just feel so horrible that you- you _had_ a choice but it wasn’t fair, it really wasn’t fair to you.” 

With each word, he became more agitated until he finished talking with his fists clenched on the table. Ryan reached out across the table without thinking and placed his hands over Brendon’s. 

Brendon’s eyes darted up to meet his, and there was such a softness in Ryan’s eyes that the panic dissipated from every corner of his body. 

“Brendon. Don’t blame yourself. I’m not going to pretend this has all been...innocent and easy and perfect, and yes, we’re both probably more fucked up because of it but god damn it, it’s not your fault. None of this will ever be your fault.”

Ryan seemed to be breathing heavier, and Brendon could feel the sweat from his palms on the back of his hands. 

“I want to make this work,” Ryan said with subtle determination. “I want us to have a good, functional relationship. With...intimacy.” His thumb rubbed over Brendon’s knuckles as he recalled the meaning that word had taken on for him.

“Ryan, would you still want that if...um, I said I needed a break from the...sex?” Brendon asked in a low, dry voice. Ryan could see the worry in his eyes, and indeed, it did worry him. Even the mere implication of having sex just brought back an overwhelming flow of hard, dense, battering emotions. 

“Of course. If you can’t handle it, if it takes some time, that’s okay. It’s okay baby,” Ryan soothed. 

Brendon smiled and interlaced his fingers with Ryan’s on the table. 

“God I love it when you call me that,” he admitted in a low whisper.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really appreciate comments; tell me what you liked, tell me what I can improve on. I'd be very grateful!


End file.
